Stick a fork in me, I'm done.

I love my boys. I really do. They're adorable and funny and cute and so sweet. But I won't ever have any more children. EVER.

It's been ridiculous trying to reclaim my old body since having kids. I can't cough without feeling like I'm going to pee my pants. My pelvis hurts- I can't throw a sidekick or roundhouse kick without looking like a wimp. And the fact that I'm still wearing some maternity stuff bugs the hell outta me.

So, no more. I told Hubby if he ever wanted more kids, we'd adopt. Preferably one who's talking, potty-trained, and can make their own breakfast. Or maybe we'll just get a fish.

Right now, I'm watching LB mess around with a padlock, trying to figure it out, and JC kicking his feet under his jungle gym. They're so adorable, I just want to pick them both up and squeeze them. It almost makes me forget just how much of a beating my body has taken. Almost.