Snuggles for All the Nights

"Mom, what does 'penetrate' mean?"

I was folding laundry in our living room as McKenna watched "Austrailia's Deadly Dozen" on Netflix when this question arose. I looked up, confused. 

Not confused about what you may be at this point, because yes, our child often watches documentaries, instead of 'Dora The Explorer' like most normal kids. 
(I'm kind of wishing Dora was picked to watch more often because her songs are much more catchy than NatGeo's.) 
(But McKenna has grown attached to this particular episode and isn't afraid to point out my sub-par intelligence level because she knows the differences between a Box Jellyfish and your average everyday jellyfish.)

(I'm assuming any jellyfish is a jellyfish to be avoided. Am I right or am I right?)

"Huh?" I looked at her, to the TV, and back to her again, wondering if I heard the question correctly.

"What does 'penetrate' mean? You knoooow, like the Stonefish penetrates its fin through a person's shoe when they walk and poisons them..." This came complete with an exasperated eye roll and annoyed palm-to-the-ceiling motion of her hand. 

This confused me even more. When did my four ("and a half," she'd be sure to correct me) year old child turn into a thirteen year old? She clearly has the teenage eye roll and parental exasperation thing down. But I didn't realize my daughter could pronounce a word like 'penetrate'. 

Because isn't she still supposed to be learning how to say "Ma-Ma" and "Da-Da?" Wasn't just yesterday she singing "Geezus wuvs me?" 

Maybe it was I just didn't realize she was truly absorbing what the show was teaching... Sure, I thought she listened and remembered it, but for the most part, I figured she liked watching the show because it was filled with exciting, exotic animals on it. Either that or she has a serious desire to visit Austrailia and wants to be enlightened on the whereabouts of the deadly cone snail.

(Because her mother probably wouldn't survive a swim in the ocean with her minimal jellyfish knowledge.)

Okay, yes, yes - I know. Children learn quickly... They're like sponges... And what do I mean I "didn't realize" she was learning and speaking words such as 'penetrate?'

What I mean is... Where the hell is my baby girl and where have the last couple years of her life gone?? 

I have to be at least two to three years behind in the McKenna Growing Up race. At this rate, she'll be twenty years old when I am just about ready for her to turn ten. 

I'm only four (and a half) years into this whole parenting deal, but my mind was blown today when I realize how big my "baby" is getting to be. Then I looked at little Meda and realized she is already eight months old. I know that doesn't sound like a lot, but y'all...

I just gave birth. Seriously. She is supposed to still be a blob of immobile, feces-creating flesh... Not the smiling, laughing, crawling, and soon-to-be walking and talking child she actually is. 

After I resisted the urge to make a sarcastic joke about the word 'penetrate' answered her question, I made McKenna promise me something. I made her promise when she's fifteen, she would still snuggle with me. And then when she's eighteen and then twenty five and every year after. In response, I received a snuggle and an "okay, mama." 
(Be still, my heart.)

After promising this, McKenna leaned over, grabbed my head, pulling it close to her, and whispered in my ear, "Will you promise me something, Mom?" 

I nodded.

"That'll you'll snuggle me all night all the nights when you're older?"

Y'all. The tears sprang up before my first full nod was completed. 

I plan to hold her to her promise. And I expect her to hold me to mine too. My heart is aching right now because I love both my girls so much. So much I want time to stop.

They say it goes by fast and the days are long, but the years are short. I'm not sure I've heard of more true words when it comes to parenting. 

I looked at MK and tried to capture that moment and tuck it away in my (pretty empty) brain rolodex. I want to remember every detail of this time in her and Meda's life. How McKenna winks at you with both her eyes when you give her a thumbs up. How Meda kicks both legs, swings one arm and sharply sucks in air from excitement after first seeing you following a nap. How McKenna won't speak to me until she's greeted her baby sister first thing in the morning. 

Because apparently I've been too busy looking forward to their futures to store in my memory bank any of the past. 

Though, I am looking forward to the promise to give and get all the snuggles, all the nights, when I get older. :-)

Adventures in Breastfeeding

So with a number of friends with young babies, including myself, and more babies on the way for people I know, the topic of breastfeeding comes up. A lot. So I thought I'd share my thoughts.

*If you're not into this type of topic, I recommend exiting now.*

Ahhh, breastfeeding. It is such a beautiful thing... right??

Riiiggghhttt???

(insert awkward silence)

I know the topic of breastfeeding can be highly controversial...
Will you or won't you?
To feed in public or no?
Football hold or cradle hold?

The topic questions go on and on...

And somehow, for some reason unknown to me, once you have a baby, the topic becomes everybody's business. Strangers who never would have given you a second look in the airport, seem to suddenly have an opinion about you breastfeeding in the corner of the terminal, completely covered up and not drawing any attention to yourself of quiet, settled child. I am willing to bet these are the people who have never had kids before (that say "when I have kids, I'll never do that..." HA! We'll see...), so they don't understand the debacle that traveling with infants can be. Not just traveling, but going out to dinner or lunch as well.

(This is me jumping on a soapbox right now... when you see a breastfeeding mom... or just a frazzled mom, in general... traveling with her kid(s), do yourself and her a favor and extend some grace. As much as I try to ignore it - nothing irritates me more than people grunting and complaining about parents and their kids while traveling (especially those who do not have their own children). I guaran-damn-tee that mom wouldn't be traveling with her kiddos if she didn't have to. And she's probably doing EVERYTHING she can to make herself and those other adults around her more comfortable - even if that means breastfeeding. A baby eating is a baby that ISN'T crying. So get over it and look away.)

Anyway... sorry about that. Just had to get that off my chest. ;-) Moving on...

While I was still pregnant, I would have complete strangers ask me some of those breastfeeding questions I listed above.
(Here they are again, in case you forgot:
Will you or won't you?
To feed in public or no?
Football hold or cradle hold?)

And that's not okay.

Because let's be real. What they are really asking about is the Holy Grail of breastfeeding - my boobs. Friends and family asking is one thing... but strangers??

Well, I'm here to set the record straight. (At least my record.)

In my world, there was/is a love-hate relationship with the Holy Grail. It isn't all rainbows and hearts, flowers and unicorns, perfect necklines and smiling babies.

Allow me to elaborate.

They are loved because they are the life blood. The precious gold. The absolute best and healthiest option for feeding your precious little one. And they allow your pocketbook to stay relatively better stocked than the alternative would.

However...

You don't want to look at them.

You don't want to touch them. 

You don't want to even acknowledge their existence.

Rather than a nice "accessory" to an outfit, or shirt filler-outer, or even (ahem!) a sexual accessory of sorts, they immediately turn you into your child's own personal Turner Dairy Farm, pumping out milk in quantities that would fully stock your local Super WalMart....
(Or in my snobbish-case, Target. I tend find myself too fancy for Wally World these days. Namely because I like to still feel clean when I leave the store.)

Now, have you ever been to a dairy farm? Coming from a girl with relatives that own one of the larger dairy farms in the state of Kentucky, it ain't a pretty sight behind the scenes. I'll leave it at that and let your imagination run wild with mental images of cold, hard steel strapped to thousands of milk clogged udders. 

Upon the birth of your child, your boobs are immediately turned into feeding machines and nothing more. And as with all machines, they have to be taken care of. Which isn't so fun.

Let's start with showering. 

Ah, showering. Who knew taking a shower could be painful? Well, ladies, it is. With 57 gallons of milk literally just hanging out on your chest, the pain of standing up without some sort of bra support holding them up sucks. (No pun intended.) And it's hard to wash your hair and body using one or even two hands to support the feeding machines so they don't rip right off the front of you.

Also in the maintenance department, they must be drained every few hours. If not, this causes a multitude of problems that include, but are not limited to:
-aches
-leaks
-fussy babies
-mastitis
-fever
-chills
... the list goes on. And I've suffered from all of the above. #tmimaybe?

I breastfed both my children for a few months - and at the risk of sounding like a heartless and awful mother, it was awful. I wish I could say otherwise. I know TONS of moms who loved every sweet moment of breastfeeding and bonding with their baby and produced enough milk to feed their kids and starving children in Africa. (Literally - that's not a joke.) How awesome it that? I'm truly jealous.


Because it wasn't like that for me. I struggled to produce enough milk for my own two and my babies struggled because of it, no matter how often I fed or "pumped it up." They weren't happy and I wasn't either. They were hungry. I was tired and (quite literally) drained - all the time. I spoke with lactation consultants, OB's, pediatricians, friends, relatives... it didn't help. I know others who have had the same issue too. :-(

So with that being said, I will never, ever, EVER judge a mother who decides to fore-go breastfeeding. Yes, it is the healthiest option for our little ones, but sometimes Mama's gotta do what Mama's gotta do.

And for those of you who enjoy breastfeeding and your children thrived because of it - rock on, sister!! Keep it up!! (But just don't look down on those of us who weren't able to.)

ARE YOU HERE YET FALL??? CAN YOU HEAR ME CALLING???

Well, hello there, bloggy world!

Long time, no read... or write... or whatever...
(You know what I mean.)

Anyway, I've been (once again) MIA from the interwebs for a few weeks.

Okay, not really. I've definitely been on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, my email, work website, and Amazon.com. I guess what I'm trying to say is that I've been MIA from this here blog.

Anyway, this summer's been a doozy. Pretty busy and not at all what I picture summertime to look like.

I don't know about you, but when I think of summer, I picture lounging by the pool or at the beach with some sort of fruity drink in hand. Sleeping in and seeing movies at the drive-in. Reading at least 2-3 books per month. Having nothing on the agenda except whatever I want to do. (#selfish #buthoneybadgerdontcare)

Well, that's not reality, people.

I haven't been to the pool one time.

Or the beach.

I can't remember the last time I slept in or was able to watch a movie in its entirety without being interrupted. And I've struggled to finish even one novella over the course of three months.

Its been busy. Really busy. We've had family in town multiple times (that's what happens when you add additional family members to the clan, by way of labor and birth. Meda G has had plenty of visitors and truth be told, it's been great!). I've also been working non-stop (okay, "non-stop" really means "part-time," but whatever...) and getting lots of activities and stuff to get done over the past 3 months. Or trying to at least...

So let's just say, I'm absolutely READY. FOR. FALL. Besides pumpkin lattes (All hail, Starbucks!), colorful trees and cooler weather, with fall comes a regularity that I crave. While lounging by the pool, seeing movies and reading sounds fabulous, that type of stuff doesn't happen during my summers anymore. And I also don't do well without having a set schedule.

My summer of entertaining a four year old while keeping a newborn alive, working somewhere in between every 3 hour feeding, getting back in shape, dealing with a small (and extremely annoying) bout of post-partum depression and oh yeah, trying to write a book.... well, let's just say it's been a tad on the chaotic side.

It was okay at the beginning of summer. We had ballet camp, swim lessons and gymnastics scheduled weekly. We had set hours of the day we did certain things, and it was great. Though I may have been a little overzealous in the first few weeks of June, because I sort of got burnt out. We ran out of things to do (not to mention the energy to do them) and it's been killing not only McKenna, but also me. Don't get me wrong, there was lots of great and fun moments, but IT. IS. TIME.

It's time for school to start.

Basically what I am saying is that once school starts, chances are you will see me frolicking in the parking lot singing praises to Jesus, while doing cartwheels and back handsprings.

Not only will the fall bring regularity to our schedules, but it will give Mama a few hours of peace and quiet from The World's Most Talkative Four Year Old EVER.

(As I sit here typing this, she is sitting - basically on my lap - with a cartoon on and is giving her own commentation on EVERY THING SAID AND DONE on the show. Oh, and when I don't immediately acknowledge her, the volume and intensity of her voice immensely raises. Which is why I MAY START TYPING IN CAPS TO DROWN OUT THE YELLING IN MY EAR!!!!  CAN YOU HEAR ME, BLOG READERS????)

Anyway.... back to the topic at hand...

Sure, even with school starting I'll still have an infant to care for, but she's not quite to the Won't Shut Up Stage that her older sister is currently in and can easily be quieted down with either a bottle of Gerber's deliciousness or strategic placement beneath a large and whirling ceiling fan.

(By the way.... The World's Most Talkative Four Year Old EVER is still talking.... she's asking me to take her to Target to buy stuff to make cookies. Because it doesn't take too long to make cookies. There's only two things to do. Buy the cookies and put the on the cookie pan. Then put it in the oven. Or the microwave. It's fun to have cookies. Only two things to do. I like sugar cookies. Can we put sugar in the cookies? I like the sugar. But I like cupcakes the best. Stop laughing at me, mom. STOP LAUGHING!!! MOM, STOP LAUGHING!! Oh, mom. You're so funny. Can we go to Target now?)

(By the way, that one-way conversation dictated above is verbatim.)

Anyway, I think you get the point. I'll go ahead and cut this post off now. The moral of the story is that August 27, 2013 will be a glorious day. The day school starts back and fall is officially back in session in the Funston household. 

Praise Jesus.

A Serious Epidemic

(I posted this on my old blog around this time last year, however, we've been re-infected. So I'm re-posting.)

Oh my gosh, y'all. Our entire house is sick! It started with MK. I'm not sure where she contracted it, but there has now been a serious outbreak in our home. I went ahead and googled it, as well as checked WebMD, and it looks like MK has come down with a serious case of 'Whiney-Butt.'

Y'all... I'm worried. Seriously. The 'Whiney-Buttness' has taken over our entire lives in trying to control the frequent outbreaks. Bryant & I have no idea what to do. Even the normal sick-ness remedies -- cuddling, snuggling, stuffing the child's face with comfort food/drinks/toys, highly medicating -- have little to no effect, and often times even result in completely disastrous and colossal meltdowns.

Has anybody else ever gone through this with their child? What is even worse is this terrible disease seems to be contagious and has begun to spread and cause an epidemic of 'The Butts' in our home. With myself, it's morphed into a semi-serious case of 'Bitchy-Butt.' And this, my dear friends, is NOT okay. I am normally easy-going, care-free, and very tolerant of other people's shenanigans.

However, being infected with 'Bitchy-Butt'... oh my... you can't even imagine the intolerableness I have for stupid sh*t slightly dense actions from other people. I have been trying to go into loner-mode the past few days, not risking infecting others, but this week starts lots of activities where both myself and MK will be out and around people...

Luckily, Bitchy or Whiney-Butt hasn't infected Bryant.... yet. But he has it coming. I can tell. His normally extensive length of patience has indeed become much shorter, and I fear 'Raging-Butt' may make an unwelcome appearance in the near future.

I'm praying 'The Butts' leave us soon, so maybe others won't be infected. Have any of you ever gone through this with your child or yourself? Please tell me how to rid our home of this horrible-ness!

Let the Vent-Fest Ensue

Disclaimer: This post is going to absolutely put in the running for "Worst Mom Ever." Maybe even to claim the reluctant title. But I've got to get it off my chest. Hopefully, I'm not the only parent who's ever felt like this. Let the vent-fest ensue...

Meda is officially one month old. It's been both the shortest and longest month of my life. Weird, I know, but it is true.

I wanted to share a few thoughts that have flown through my mind over the past month. Go ahead and judge me. I'm too sleep deprived to even give a newborn turd what anyone thinks at this point. Hell, I may regret this post (i.e. my confession), but whatever...


1) "When will this stage eeeeennnndddd????"

Okay, sure... the newborn/baby stage doesn't last long. I get it. Yes - "they're only small once." And "they grow up too fast." And "they're in college before you know it." And even the elusive "you are so blessed to have her."

I get it.

I really and truly do. But I'm exhausted. I'm literally dragging myself through each day at this point, just trying to survive.

Trying to feed the new baby, trying to feed the preschooler, trying to feed myself.

Trying to do the laundry, trying keep the dishes from becoming an intense game of Jenga, trying to sweep dog hair off the floor.

Trying to get work done, trying to run errands, trying to still be a good friend and wife.

Trying to hold the baby to keep her happy, trying to play "princess" with the preschooler to keep her happy, trying to not nag the husband to keep him happy.

Trying to keep everyone happy but myself.

Trying to just make it to the next time the baby naps.

Ugh... and let's not even mention the dogs. They basically don't exist in my mind anymore.  #PoorThings #AnybodyWantAnyDogs

As a self-proclaimed "non-baby" person... the whole "baby-ness" of these first few months is overwhelming. Plus, you are "around" roughly 678 times more than you would be normally. Meaning, you are basically on house arrest 99.999988% of the day and forced to be home with baby (especially if you are breastfeeding and the sole source of food) as well as how you are quite literally awake more than normal.

Storytime

There's no break. No off-time. No vacation. Your life begins a continuous three hour cycle of feeding, changing diapers, and cat napping. Along with all that other crap I listed above. You begin to live three hours at a time.

And for the record, three hours is not a lot of time to live. And it's exhausting trying to fit everything in and make everyone happy and not completely show to the world how much of a zombie you've become.

I'm just plain tired.


2) "Shut up already!"

The crying....

And the screaming....

Ohhhh, the screaming....

It. Doesn't. Ever. End.


3) "What did I do to deserve this??"

There's no way this type of punishment didn't come from some absolutely horrific and ghastly act on my part. I just wish I could remember who I murdered or what other heinous crime I committed to deserve this whole "parenthood" thing...

Oh, wait? I asked for this??

Hmmm....


4) "I am so in love."

How stupidly obnoxious is it that such a mini-person, one who weighs less than my upper leg, spits up all over my shoulder, lap and hair, and keeps my boobs aching 24/7 completely take over my heart?

In those rare moments when the darkness of sheer exhaustion and temporary baby hatred hasn't clouded over, I'll look at her little face - adorable in my biased mother eyes when she's not screaming or vomiting curdled breast milk all over me - and be completely blown away with love.

Annoying, right?

Normally, someone who treats us like newborns do would be tossed head first off the "I like you" cliff.... not to mention the "I love you" mountain....

But Meda, complete with screaming tantrums and sleepless nights, has completely stolen my heart, just like her sister did 4 years ago.

And I'll get through this. Just like I did before.

Three hours at a time.

Meet Meda Grayson!

Well, she's here. 

Meet the newest addition to our family, Meda Grayson.
(Pronounced Mee-da... like "me" and then "duh." Yeah, just like that.)

She arrived May 9th, at 6:32pm after eight hours and a rather rough delivery at 6lbs, 1oz and 20 inches long.

Below are a list of things I learned after experiencing giving birth to my second child and a few words of advice I have for pregnant peeps everywhere.

*Proceed at your own risk. 

** No seriously.... At your own risk. Gentleman - I recommend shutting your browser now.

*** For real boys, go ahead and shut 'er down. Now.

Good. Now, we can proceed.....

• I still believe epidural's should be available to pregnant women everywhere starting at 38 weeks.
• Epidural's are quite possibly the most fabulous invention in modern medicine.
• Just because you are in a flubby hospital gown that only covers half of your body all day and then your woman parts suddenly become public display for anybody walking by your hospital room, that doesn't mean that your face shouldn't be covered up while in labor. I believe every woman should be wearing makeup at all the times in the last couple weeks of pregnancy. You don't want to risk going into labor without it. Cameras are everywhere. And with smartphones and social media at the level it is these days, Lochness monster pictures of you can pop up on the interwebs without approval at any given moment. So don't become a statistic. Let us ban together to end the era of woman looking like crap before, during and after labor. The whole process is going to rock your body physically, so let's not add to it by being lazy with our faces. So please, at the very least wear some mascara. Remember: eyes and lips at all times, ladies... eyes and lips! 
• Epidural's are the most fabulous invention in modern medicine.
• IV injection is one of the most highly deadly forms of medicine insertion. Upon looking at an IV and after it's insertion with the nurse muttering self-encouraging words under her breath, "We have to save it. Don't lose it!"; one's blood pressure is at risk to bottom out and cause fuzzy vision, yellow skin coloring and possibly even death.   
• Epidural's are, in my opinion, the most fabulous invention in modern medicine.
• When/if your child is positioned so incorrectly they are unable to come out and your doctor offers to help "vacuum" your child out of you or else be forced to perform a c-section, BEWARE. Proceed with the vacuum ONLY if you have the stomach for teams of 8+ medical personnel to swoop in SWAT team style, decked out in head to toe battle gear (face masks included!), doctors tripping backwards as vacuums come unsealed and high flying fluid...........Yeah......... All that happened. BEWARE.
• Epidural's are still the most fabulous invention in modern medicine.
• Ladies - before going in for a vaginal delivery (Ugh. I just said "vaginal." Gross. #YesIAmStillTwelveYearsOld....), make sure to stock up on adult diapers for the weeks and months after. NOBODY EVER TELLS YOU THIS INFORMATION UNTIL IT IS TOO LATE! So here it is. You need to be prepared to bleed out from between your legs for an enormously ridiculous amount of time. I'm talking weeks and possibly even months. And there's a cleansing process every time you go to the restroom that is just straight up NOT cool.  So be ready. *Note: This may not be needed for c-section deliveries. I wouldn't know because I chose to VACUUM my kid's head out of my woman parts. Gross, gross.
• Finally, have I mentioned yet that epidural's are absolutely the most fabulous invention in modern medicine?

Below are some pics from the war zone. Don't be fooled by the happy-go-lucky atmosphere the pictures portray. The 2 hours in between these "before" and "after" pics, shit got real.

But we now have the battle prize; an amazing, healthy and perfect little girl.  Praise God. :-)

Don't look too close or you'll see MK also had a "baby in her belly"

And of course, the unicorn had to be there to witness everything.

McKenna meeting her sister for the 1st time. One of my fav pics!

Why the husband decided to take pics of me while I checked my all social media sites, I'll never know.

This board perfectly appeased my O.C.D.

Watching 

McKenna wasn't about to skip out on IG's #VSitMonth 

First family photo

Meda Grayson

So we finally decided on a name for Baby Fun Numero Dos.

After a couple months of Bryant shooting down every name I threw out there deliberating, we came up with it.

Meda Grayson.

"Meda"... (Pronounced Mee-dah)... was The husband's great grandmother. We both immediately loved the name because its got that "old" sound to it and it has family meaning.

"Grayson" comes from Grayson County, where my entire family hails from in Kentucky. I love, love, love this name for a girl, but Bryant pictures it more as a boy name, so we decided to pair it with Meda to give it more of a feminine feel.

True to our baby's soon-to-be Southern heritage, we toyed with a list of double names as well. In fact, I like the sound of "Meda-Grace" and may end up calling her that. I call McKenna, "McKenna Rayne" all too often also. Though we never intended for MK's to be used together all the time. Habit on my part, I guess.

Anyway, so there she is.

Baby Fun #2 = Meda Grayson.

Below is a photo of her from our 3D ultrasound we had last week.

Step 1: Acceptance - When Your Child Dresses Better Than You

Just some visual proof that my child definitely dresses better than me...

She is as girly as they come, and me? Well, I'm just lazy....

Her = Cute

Me = Ridiculous

Her = Fabulous

Me = Lazy 

Her = Adorable

Me = Hobo 

Her = Charming

Me = Awkward

Her = Delightful
Me = Blah 

Her = Darling

McKenna-isms

So I was sitting here tonight with MK, listening to her blabber on about who knows what and I decided to share some of my favorite McKenna-isms and quotes.  These are just a few that I can think of off the top of my head. I know there are more, but this will have to do for now. :-)

"You can eat all the gummy bears because you have a BIG mouth just like daddy!" 

"When you see a yellow light, say 'Whoopsie!'"  *said to me after repeating what my mother said to her as she ran a yellow light... and so often does.

"I'm going to drop a GIANT poop ball so you can see it!" *Oh, the joys of potty training...

"Put your hand up to your ear and listen to me drop a giant poop ball!" 

"Don't get dookie on your hands when you wipe my butt." *When they talk like this, you know they should be wiping their OWN butt!

"When I'm a grown up can I wear this huge booby holder thing that looks like a zebra?" *yelled across Target while holding a well-endowed bra.

"Mama, I just called all the princesses and put them on my Facebook so we know their birthday is January."

McKenna: Did you know I really want a butterfly? A purple one with purple on its wings. Did you know my caterpillars have turned into chrysalis and will come out like butterflies? But not purple ones. Painted Lady's. But I really want purple ones.Me: Oh yeah? McKenna: Did you know I know everything?? 

And my all time favorite.... (said to her dad while demanding chocolate milk before taking a nap)....

"I need some chocolate milk. It's a f**king problem!"

It's a GIRL!

Just before the holidays, we found out that Baby Fun #2 is a GIRL!!  We are thrilled and McKenna couldn't be happier to have a little sister on the way! 

A friend of mine, Molly, was generous and hosted a gender revealment party at her house with a group of close friends. Below are some pictures and a video from when we opened the box! 

And no - Bryant or I had no idea what color balloons were coming out of the box before opening!

(Sorry the video is fuzzy... I don't know why it did that!) 

At the end of the video, McKenna said, "I told ya!"

Haha!

 

MK helped make the box!

She was SO pumped!

9 Weeks

12 Weeks

19 Weeks
The "TMI" photo!

19 Weeks

19 Weeks