A Case of the Crazies

I was at a baby shower the other day. A friend who has two boys like myself (only slightly older) is now welcoming a little girl. And as all those cute little tutus and bows and shoes came out of their wrapping, I found myself slipping into a little daydream about having a brown-haired, blue-eyed little mini me all snuggly sweet in my arms.

And then I snapped back to reality.

I'm a hot mess when pregnant. And a hot mess for the first 3 months. That makes a whopping year of hot messiness. So if you love me at all, remind me of this if I ever mention pining for another baby.

Don't get me wrong. My two littles are SO worth it. I mean, really. Just look at these two sets of squeezable cheeks.

They're just so yummy I can hardly stand it. But I fully believe that God set my limits to two. So I blame the following on my momentary lapse of judgement:

      1.) The forget-it-all hormones are REALLY effective

      2.) I blinked and my baby is already 5 months old

So next time I contract a case of newborn fever, remind me to read my post a few months back. The one where I confessed I had nothing under control because raising two is harder than astrophysics. (And no, I still have nothing under control. I have a two year old at home, Silly.)