Diapers and nursing and hormones, oh my!

That’s pretty much been my life the past few days, aiii! I’ve been stealing a few minutes here and there to read all your comments and I just have to say how much I appreciate all the sweetness. You guys are awesome. Once I’m able to get more than an hour of sleep at a time, I’ll be back here more often. I’m a total zombie right now, no joke. I nodded off about 3 times while writing this paragraph.

We’re having a pretty interesting time adjusting to a life with two kids, but so far this experience has been a lot less stressful than last time. And wow, Maddie is surprising us all! She’s constantly asking, “is baby okay?” and giving him the most gentle kisses and pats on the cheek. She’s loving it.

Okay, here are a few pictures! Talk to you all soon.

You know how happy I must be if I'm posting a photo showcasing my 50 chins.

I want my own TLC show

These “addiction” shows are going to be the end of me, I just know it. It seems like there’s a different one on every night, showcasing the crazy behaviors of seemingly normal people and I just can’t stop watching them! The greatest thing about these laundry soap-eating, coupon-clipping, cat-obsessed people is that they are actually making me feel REALLY normal. This is a positive thing, feeling normal, especially during this incredibly hormonal, unstable, HULK SMASH stage in my life.

If I was to try out for My Strange Addiction, I’m not sure¬†which of my nutty pregnancy-related obsessions would win me a 30 minute spot on the show, but undoubtedly one of them would. The episode might go a little something like this:

Dramatic intro music plays and I appear on your screen, wedged in the comfy corner of my couch where I usually get stuck and need actual assistance getting pulled out. A scraggly mass of hair is gathered in a messy bun on top of my head, dark circles pool beneath my eyes, and a bowl of ice cream sits on my round belly. I’m watching What Not to Wear, which is ironic because I’m wearing sweatpants, mismatched socks and no bra.

The addict speaks up:

My name is Morgan and I’m addicted to…

…lifting up my shirt and checking on the state of my belly button. Is it still an innie? WILL IT MAKE UP IT’S FLIPPING MIND ALREADY?

…Googling “ways to induce labor”, followed by spending the day eating fresh pineapple, walking 48 miles and doing jumping jacks. Then laying awake in bed for 5 hours, convinced “the contractions are getting stronger!” while Justin mumbles “mmhmm, that’s nice, honey” and falls back to sleep. Meanwhile, I contemplate doing something especially active, such as punching him in the back of the head in order to bring on more contractions. But in the end, meh, it’s 2am and I need sleep.

…not shaving my legs. I repeat, NOT shaving them. I can’t reach them without feeling like I’m busting a rib so I just don’t even try. Feel free to call me Sasquatch.

…eating hot cheetos with mustard. I know. I’d like to blame the pregnancy for this one, but a friend in high school told me to try it and I’ve never looked back. I’m healthy.

Okay, so maybe I could give some of these addiction show people a run for their money, but isn’t that to be expected at the end of a pregnancy? Nine months of hormones. Nine months of gaining weight. Nine months of WAITING.

I’m normal. I’m like, totally normal.

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