This time last year it became apparent fom my appearance that I was pregnant. Even though I was only five months, I looked like I was eight months along. The same thing happened with my first pregnancy. Before I had my first ultrasound, my in laws had convinced me that I MUST be carrying twins. That was a cruel assumption. For some reason I just carry my babies waaayyy out front. Even my doctor was said "well...you haven't gained THAT much weight" as she looked at my belly with a puzzled look "your uterus just grows OUT". I was asked if I was carrying twins during both pregnancies, and I would smile and say "Nope. Just one big boy." What I really wanted to say: "Yes! I know. I'm a FRIGGIN WHALE!"
In additon to my "twins?" comments that I received, I also heard a lot of "You're going to have your hands full." This was a comment that people made for the sake of wanting to say something while they stared at the huge pregnant woman struggling with a baby/toddler. I couldn't disagree with this comment, as I knew my hands would be full. I viewed Gunther's intended birthday as D-day. I would never accomplish any task once he was born. It has turned out that it (having two kids under two) is not nearly as bad as I had expected. It does tend to take me a lot longer to complete a simple task, such as vacuuming the living room ( 1.5 meltdowns per child is the average in the time it takes me to do this). I don't bathe nearly as much as I would like, since somebody always starts screaming the second I put shampoo in my hair. My house is never really clean, but it turns out that people don't expect your house to be clean when you have two kids under two.
The little turds are totally worth all the hassle.
Oh...and looky! looky! Gunther can drink out of a cup now. Impressive for a 7 month old, no?