dad and max.

I love our house for many reasons.

But maybe my favorite part is our front porch.







And it's made even better with my cute husband and sweet, angel baby.

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first night.

his first little smile.




clara, we love our snuggle bear :)




our first night home was good. Max slept on and off. Pratt woke once (upon hearing max) but hopped right back in bed without any problem.

I'm a ball of nerves and keep waiting for something bad to happen. It's all so new. And I can already see how hard this is going to be when I'm here alone with these two boys.

But I know I can do it. And I know time flies. And I know I have help around me. It's just new.

And new things always scare me...but we will be okay. If nothing else, I'm just thankful to not be peeing my pants all day. I'm totally serious.


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the master.

my husband has become a pro at something...




something called "swaddling".

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my friend whit.

i've talked about whitney several times on here.  she's one of my most precious friends.

she came up to see us before we headed home from the hospital and took some really great pictures of max.  she promised to come back and get more with pratt.  i cannot wait for those.  maybe by then, pratt will have un-learned "cheese" for photos :)

click here for her post and the photos.

if you're interested in her work, here is her facebook page.  she's pretty great.

thank you whit.  he's pretty handsome.

what a difference...

a day makes.




day one. torn from his warm home. he's thrilled. or not.





day two. post circumcision. swaddled as tightly as possible. in heaven.

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happy birthday max!

Max Wesley Fulks

12:30 pm. 5.13.11

7 pounds, 4 ounces.

21.75 inches long.

And loved oh so much by his big brother...



























Happy birthday sweet guy. We love you so much. Praise God for a healthy delivery!!

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the light at the end of the tunnel.

i can't sleep.

maybe it's because i took a nap with pratt today.

or maybe it's because i know i need to paint one last thing for the nursery.

or maybe it's because i know i need to pack a bag.  for the hospital.  because i haven't done that yet.  tonight, i was digging through my bottom bathroom cabinet drawer when i came across my leftovers from pratt's birth.  you know...epifoam.  those big ice packs that you crack in half.  nursing pads.  ditties.  tucks pads.  etc.

all the stuff to make life bearable after giving birth.  let me just say that the inventor of epifoam should have been given some type of prize.  like a nobel peace prize.  i should find out who it is and write a thank you note.  because that stuff is the bomb diggity.  i'm gonna hoard it in recovery.  and try to bring home 16 tubes.

as miserable as i feel at night, the days are remarkably good around here.  someone has told pratt to take it easy on me.  and we've been having such wonderful days together.  we sit together in our living room chair and watch tv.  eating salt and vinegar chips.  and dill pickle spears.  drinking diet dr. thunder.  or as he calls it, "dr. funder".

we color and play with playdoh.  we have all of max's drawers organized.  he has been playing with all the toys, making sure none of them need batteries.  every once in a while, he will walk up to me, and pat my tummy.  and just look up at me and smile.

i find myself reminding him that i love him constantly.  trying to get a 2 year old to understand that his world is about to be flip turned upside down.  how do you do that?  idk.  it's impossible, i think.  i just keep thinking about what spencer means to me.  and how i cannot imagine my world without her.  and so i hope and pray that one day he will understand why i flipped everything.

he asked me tonight if he and max could get bunk beds once he gets here.  this is clint's fault.  he's been talking about bunk beds since he found out max was a boy.  and it's rubbed off.

i woke last night with contractions.  around 330 am.  i had two pretty strong ones.  and then i had one that i thought was going to kill me.  it was bad.  really, really bad.  i started moaning and trying to get up out of the bed.  but i couldn't move.  i started trying to breathe through it and woke clint.  he jumped up...pretty much ready for the hospital.

i finally fell asleep after that.  only to wake an hour later with the worst charley horse ever in my right leg.  i started screaming at clint to help me.  i was screaming "charley" and i guess maybe he thought it was birthing our child in the bed.  he was totally confused.  and couldn't figure out what was going on.  i was yelling at him, asking him if i needed to straighten my leg or bend it.  i couldn't remember.  i just knew it was killing me.  and just tight as can be.  he said, "i think you're just supposed to hold it steady".  i flipped then.  and jerked away from him.

just picture it.  me.  with this gigantic stomach trying to grab my calf.  and him just laying in the dark, fumbling around thinking i was giving birth and changed the baby's name to charley.

at some point, i passed gas.  i don't know if it was from being nervous.  or just being fat.  but i started laughing at that point and realized i was so thankful for clint.  because really...who is going to find me attractive beyond this point?

only my husband.  that's who.

so that's about it.  i'm big.  and crampy.  grouchy.  and can't control my bowels.

wanna come over?!