three is basically nbd at this point.

first. second. third.

i fully expect these birth announcements to get more and more casual with each baby. 

it's just so on brand for me. 

here we are again. 

another year, another baby in the christensen household.

and boy howdy* are we excited!

like, really, really excited. 

i'm 17 weeks along and due december 23.

we're planning on being induced the week before his due date.

because HIIIII, 

i know we're crazy for having three babies in three years

but we're not crazy enough to have back-to-back birthdays.

in case that hint got lost in there, 

we're having a

boy.boy.boy.boy.boy.boy.boy.

we would have been thrilled either way, 

but we can't wait to have another cory clone running around.

despite being outnumbered, jude and i still run this joint.

oh! and before i forget.
(because, honestly, this is all anyone cares about.)
jude will almost be two and ezra will be one
when this next baby is born.
so for a week, we'll have three babies one and under
before we upgrade to three under two.
hahaha.
it's so ridiculous and so, so wonderful.

we have a name picked out

but have opted to keep it a secret from the internet this time.

just trying to be mysterious and keep up with the kardashian's. 

speaking of the kardashian's...

it looks like kim and i will be doppleganging each other again for halloween this year.

oh pregnant kim, thank you.

thank you for everything. 

*i've never said that before, and i don't know how i feel about it. 

i'm not 100% for it, but i don't hate it enough to delete it. 

which is basically my motto with life lately.

i don't love this outfit, but i don't hate it enough to exert the energy to change it.

i don't love this snack of hummus and carrots but i'm too lazy to make brownies.

^^^

that last line was deceiving. 

i've literally had carrots and humus three times this pregnancy. 

one day my body will be mine again to "exercise" with or whatever, 

but until then, we feast!

as my little brother so eloquently put it, "you guys are like rabbits."

bbbaaabbbbyyyy!
this has been one of the longest secrets i have ever kept.
there was no rhyme or reason, just pure laziness.
i kept putting it off because the house wasn't clean
or we had already changed out of our "cute" clothes
or, or or...

so yesterday,
before we went to cory's parents, i popped the question.
"cory, could we just take a picture dressed like this?"
i've never seen him so happy to take pictures before.
i suggest everyone wear their best sunday sweats
for all major/announcement self-timer photo shoots.
because honestly,
why curl my hair and put on business casual
when heaven knows this is how we look 95% of the time?

according to science and my calculations,

little murph will be born exactly 

twelve months and two weeks after jude.

unless we're lucky and get an early bird.

which would give us a set of irish twins. 

but based on my track record,

this little guy will probably stay in there for an extra month or two.
oh yeah, it's a boy.

>>details for anyone who hasn't fainted yet<<

i am twenty weeks along.
aka: halfway. aka: five months

i've felt more nauseous this time around.
but no puking, thank goodness. 
my nose is extra good at smelling things.
i'm looking at you too-ripe grocery store bananas. 

i might be more exhausted but part/most of that 

is thanks to chasing jude around the house.
homegurl gets into e v e r y t h i n g.

i'm still praying for a ginger.

i will always pray for a ginger. 

we're excited. we're scared. we're nervous.

but most of all, 

we are so, so happy.

watching matie and jude has been such a treat.

this time next year,

that will be jude and ezra.

just hanging out, being best buddies
and melting my mommy heart.

oh yeah, and we're naming him ezra. 

wiiknd: the final update.

a list of questions/statements family, friends and (especially) strangers should avoid asking pregnant ladies.

i am currently two days over my due date.

sorry i'm not sorry if this post comes across as snarky

and probably graphic.

i am losing all tact and decorum. 

i'm anxious to hold my baby

and completely terrified of the process i must go through

to get said baby to this world.

so,

"make sure you have lots and lots and lots of sex if you want that baby to come out." 

thank you lady from target i have never met before.

oh and thank you for explaining why it's good for me to have tons of sex.
i'm sure everyone else in the checkout line appreciated too.

and a big shout out to literally every adult in my family

for telling me the same thing.

and for the love of pete!

can everyone please.stop.winking when they tell me to get laid?!

 an insincere, "how are you feeeeling?"

we all know you're just asking if i've had any big contractions yet.

no. i haven't. leave me alone.

"have you had that baby yet?"

seriously? don't you think i would have told you by now?

leave me alone. i hate you.

"make sure you get those blue disposable bed liners.

you will be bleeding for days.

especially when you go from lying down to sitting.

just blood, everywhere."

i may have cried after this fun fact was shared with me.

just when you think you're free,

the dam breaks forth and adult depends are a tempting option.

"how dilated are you?" followed by a quick, "hey! how are you doing?!"

hi. hey. i haven't spoken to you in eight months.

you don't get a free ticket to ask me this just because i'm pregnant.

how about we start this conversation over with some fake small talk

and then you can jump into all the personal questions

only my doctor asks me. 

"have you passed your mucus plug?"

because, gross. 

also, you don't need to know.

leave me and my plug alone plz&thnx.

i've learned people don't understand the 

"need to know" basis boundaries when someone is pregnant.

it's like they think anything is fair game.

this is my psa to remind them that

just because my body is changing and everyone can see it,

doesn't mean you get to touch my belly,

feel if my boobs are filling up with milk,

or ask personal, kooka-related questions. 

author's note:

no one has really touched my boobs to check on my milk supply,

but i feel like it's a totally legitimate thing that could happen to any pregnant lady.

PEOPLE ARE LITERALLY CRAZY.

disclaimer:

i don't hate anyone.

hormones n' stuff. 

man, i'm going to miss being able to use that. 

wiiknd: i forgot how absolutely awful december shopping was.

last friday.

bow making.

the sing-off.

walking + talking matie.

pie deception.

seinfeld.

last saturday.

ultimate cleaning day.

costco + smith's.

snackie stock up.

string cheese.

fancy bacon = on sale = buy two.

blt's. 

1940s gangster ryan gosling.

pillow talk.

last sunday.

"so you didn't have a baby last night."

church snacks.

swollen feet + ankles = lolololololol :(

poppers.

"i just want my baby."

youtubing labor inducing pressure points.
belly conversations.

monday is the dream
but stubborn, comfortable babies
have a mind of their own. 

blerg.

i just want to hold my baby already.

this is the worst kind of waiting game.

Δ   Δ   Δ 

waiting has made me go crazy.

literally crazy.
and seeing how i'm a hormone-hyped pregnant woman
who just wants to see her friggin baby already,
the only natural thing to do was to visit
makemebabies.com.
the internet gods were kind to me and blessed me
with this little cgi angel with the most adorable hair.

not too shabby for the first time.

but, as adorable as those perfectly curled brown locks were, 

i had to keep going until that site gave a ginger baby.

somehow,

each baby i tried got cuter and less ginger.

i force-clicked the light complexion to up my chances

and got beautiful flower children instead.

frustrated, i decided to give the internet one more chance

to prove i would have a sweet little ginger babe.

this is what i got instead.

moral of the story:
if you repeatedly force the internet to make your dreams come true,
your worst nightmare will become your reality.
i'm hoping this isn't some sort of karma thing
and i end up with a gracie bell.
plz send prayers.

wiiknd: step away from the popper.

eating spicy food three days in a row

will not induce labor.

just in case you were wondering. 

getting personal on a level no one asked for.

now that i'm at the stage where murphlina could come any day,

i find myself being better with personal hygiene.

i'm only allowing myself to go every other day without washing my hair.

instead of, you know three or four days...

i'm also making more of an effort 

to regularly shave my legs.

for some reason it's really important to me

to have smooth legs when i go into labor.

sometimes it's just easier to chill out on the toilet for an extra few minutes

because you know you're going to need to pee again as soon as flush.

i'm convinced they invented smart phones

for all the pregnant ladies who took five extra minutes of 

"just in case" time on the toilet.

on the same note,

how is it possible that i always empty my bladder

before hopping in the shower

and, without fail, by the end of said shower,

i need to empty it again?

what is the science on this?

i can go from not hungry at all 

to ravenous in 30 seconds flat.

that's when it gets scary.

like, 

GIVE ME ALL THE FOOD 

AND GIVE IT TO ME NOOOOOOW.

like, i scare myself when it gets that bad.

cory doesn't think i'm going to want to eat as much as i think i will after i give birth.

he thinks i'll be too exhausted from pushing a human out

and food will be the last thing on my mind.

the two things at the top of my list are currently:

a double-double animal style, fries and a shake

or all the sushi's and a shake.

either way, i'm getting a shake at the end of this.

food is still a big part of my life. just in case you were wondering.

whenever i eat a pb&j with raspberry jam,

my wombmate goes nuts. 

kicking like crazy and loving every bite.

jalepeno poppers always lure me in

with the promise of cheese and a crunchy outside.

as soon as i take that first bite,

they immediately turn on me by

burning my mouth and upsetting my stomach.

next time, i'm skipping the middle man

and going straight for mozarella sticks. 

i never want to buy chocolate peanut butter ice cream

but whenever i'm eating ice cream i think,

"man, chocolate peanut butter ice cream

would be gooooood right about now."

i continue to singlehandedly 

drink almost a gallon of milk a week.

sometimes cory helps out

but most of the credit/blame/strong bones belong to me.

speaking of milk,

i never thought i could love 2%

as much as i do.

everything else is just white water.

last night i worked on some night cheese.

colby jack.

freshly sliced off the brick.

i can't even talk about how delicious it was. 

cheese is the reason i could never be vegan.

also, milk.

and ice cream.

and bacon.

and literally all the foods.

nineteen.

we just got back from a visit to the doctor.

homegirl is growing right on schedule.

six pounds and a quarter.

there is a 

s i x p o u n d

human living inside my belly.

how weird is nature?

cory asked me to "make a normal face."

this was the result. i'm hopeless.

i also set up our last appointment

before she hops on out and joins the party.

it's weird to think that we are two appointments away

from meeting this little girl.

after two more appointments,

little cries and coos will bounce around our little home.

blankets and diapers and tiny socks will litter our floors.

i will be exhausted and will probably forget to shower,

but i will be happy.

two appointments

and i will finally be everything i ever wanted to be.

wiiknd: give me all the mashed potatoes then give me christmas.

christmas tree fluffing.

snowflake assembly.

online christmas shopping.

slight freak-out.

talk prep.

talk prep procrastination.
christmas decorating.
parks and rec.

fake nails ftw.

baby shower.

ham&swiss sliders.
tiny outfits.
a homemade quilt = tears.
speedy labor (horror) stories.
pit-stop.

baby shower take two.
tiny sandwiches.
tiny outfits.
spanglish conversations.
"mami, grandma doesn't speak spanish."
spotless house = world's best husband.
talk prep.
wreck-it ralph.

awake at four.
awake at five.
awake at six.
pre-breakfast.
awake at seven.

talk.
all the tears.
matie cuddles.
thank you cards.
burgers + root beer floats.
the great back scratch debate.
matie hugs.

"what are you doing?"
"blogging."
"make sure to talk about how sexy i am."

it's spelled matie but pronounced mattie.

about a month after cory's parents got matie,

we decided it would be "fun" to take him for the weekend.

i'm not sure what we thought it was going to be like,

but reality quickly set us straight.

watching matie for the weekend meant 

shallow, sleepless nights,

constantly checking to make sure he was breathing,

being too paranoid to take a shower,

and bodily fluids everywhere.

as stressful as it was,

nothing beat spending the entire day holding a baby.

he fit perfectly in my arms and stared at me with those big, blue eyes.

he stopped fussing when he saw the christmas lights

and was calmest when cory held him.

he slept and i watched.

waiting for him to wake up

so i could keep on staring.

mathew is the first baby cory really held and cared for.

i saw him change overnight.

the first day he was hesitant to do anything but sit while holding matie

and the next he had him slung in his arm like a football, walking all over the house.

it was amazing.

it is amazing.

i can't help but get emotional

when i think of how much we love matie.

then my heart stops when i think of how much we're going to love

our little baby.

then i see pictures like this and my heart beats double time.

look at that love in his eyes.

look at that pure, sweet love.

babygurl is going to have more love

than she's going to know what to do with. 

26 days and counting. 

honesty strikes again.

here's the thing,

it's basically impossible not compare yourself to others.

and the internet makes all that comparing and pressure and stress even worse.

even if it's not intentional, it happens.

the other morning i had a bit of a breakdown.

i asked cory if i was a bad mom because i haven't been shopping for baby clothes every day

and the majority of the clothes i've purchased for her have been from thrift shops.

(try as i might, i have the darndest time paying for a $25 baby dress when i know i can get one that looks brand new and only have to pay $2.)

and i'm no where near done setting up her nursery

or finishing projects i started because i get overwhelmed and stressed and tired.

i feel like everyone is pregnant right now.

i also feel like ladies who still have five months* left until baby time

are completely done with everything.

closets are stocked.

diapers are purchased.

rooms are picture perfect.

crafts are done (and ridiculously professional looking).

headbands and bows are sewn, glued and waiting for fuzzy little baby heads.

and i'm just sitting here,

less than a month away,

blogging about my mountains of projects instead of tackling them.
*five months might be a slight exaggeration. 

last night cory said,

"if she comes tomorrow, we will be okay.

she has a place to sleep and the house is warm.

that's all she needs right now."

i guess he's right.

babies just want to be loved.

to be held. 

to be cared for.

and as much as i'd like to have everything ready for her,

i need to accept the fact that i probably won't.

i might have dirty dishes in the sink

and a kitchen floor that needs to be mopped,

but she won't care.

as long as we are there to hold her when she cries,

nothing else matters. 

all i can do is take it day by day

and try my hardest.

that's got to count for something. 

4wk1dy

as of tomorrow,

i will officially be four weeks away from motherhood.

one month.

then our little baby girl will be here

and i can finally kiss those giant cheeks

 i keep seeing in her ultrasounds.

i can't even handle it.

excuse me while i go cry about it.

cry about finally being able to see and hold her

and also for not having a little belly buddy anymore.

pregnant hormones and emotions

will never make sense. 

and just because it's friday,

here's this.

happy weekend. 

via

i should be folding laundry but, brownies.

i recently self-diagnosed myself with

a disease called,

"if there are brownies in the house,

eat all of them before breakfast.

then make more."

yesterday i washed all of baby girl's clothes.
in less than six weeks and i'll be an official "mom."
it doesn't feel real
but it can't come soon enough. 

please do your lives a favor

and read this article

about how cory and topanga fell in love again.

it literally melted my heart. 

words cannot even express how excited i am

for girl meets world. 

and now for a game of "who wore it best?"

          kim + baby north vs. brissa + baby murph*

for those wondering, 

kim's "sweater around the bum" technique
does wonders for keeping a rump nice and toasty
during a cold evening of trick-or-treating.

author's note: 

if you plan on dressing up as post-workout kim,
make sure it's around people who understand.
if not, you'll most likely get confused with a homeless girl
wearing a ridiculous amount of eye makeup.



*no. my baby's name is not murph.

currently

sitting at my kitchen table,

 eating a vanilla pudding cup,

and wishing i had a tight black and white dress

so i can dress up as my favorite
pregnant kim k. for the night.

you'd think with everything fitting so snug
on this pregnant body,
finding a black dress in my closet
would be a breeze.
it's not.
i don't even like pudding cups.

first world problems.
am i right?

i am open to any and all
pregnant costume suggestions
that don't involve juno,
turning my belly into an oven with a bun inside,
or dressing up as a giant can of prego pasta sauce.

fun fact:
i absolutely hate the word prego
when referring to a pregnant woman.
always have.
always will.

 happy halloween.
texas forever.

wiiknd: pregnancy is glamorous.

sunday morning i woke up at 6:30

with an empty stomach and a full bladder.

i walked straight to the fridge,

ate a piece of cold, yet delicious, crazy bread

and drank egg nog straight from the carton.

then, with my bladder nigh unto bursting,

i waddled to the whiz palace 

and did my thang.

by the time i got back to bed,

i was too awake from snacking and restrooming

to go back to sleep.

i played pop cat until cory woke up

and forced my half-asleep baby daddy

 to scratch my pregnant back.

it's 3:53

i just got out of the shower.

chicken is defrosting for dinner.

box elder bugs have invaded my home.

i long for change in a backwards kind of way.

i found my first stretch mark on my belly this weekend.

it made me smile.

grow baby, grow!

oh! dinner includes pillsbury crescent rolls

& i'm r e a l l y excited about it. 

well, that escalated quickly....

warning:

i'm going to do that annoying thing

where i post a picture on my blog

that i've already uploaded to instagram.

i am officially 31 weeks pregnant.

i have been in the third trimester for three weeks.

google told me i should expect to gain an average of 

eleven pounds during these last few months.

god bless the holidays. 

speaking of final trimester weight gain...

i don't know how much i've gained this pregnancy.

i don't want to know.

i face my back to the scale at every appointment.

i've told my nurse to only tell me if my weight is hurting the baby.

it is one of the most freeing feelings in the world.

i have spent my entire life battling with body image issues

and for the first time in 24 years,

i can proudly say

i.don't.care.

i know my butt has gotten bigger.

i know my thighs are rubbing a little closer.

i know there are dimples in places that don't normally have dimples.

but i don't care.

it was touch-and-go there for a bit.

that first trimester nearly broke me.

there was something about looking bloated and not pregnant

that really rocked me and made me take a few steps back.

but here i am,

heavier and happier than ever.

i am grateful for this body.

for what it's capable of.

i am grateful for my big butt and thigh dimples.

i am grateful for a healthy pregnancy and a healthy mindset.

granted, some days are easier than others.

just because i have learned to love who i am now

doesn't mean i'm immune to that little voice

that weasels its way into the back of my head

telling me i'm too big, i'm too flabby, i'm not "perfect."

sometimes i give in. 

i let it tear me down, leaving me at square one.

but lately, i'm winning.

i'm shutting that sucker up and i'm owning who i am.

those are the days i like to remember.

those are the days that are slowly but surely taking over.

i love my little girl.

not just because she's ours,

but because of what she's helped me overcome.

early on i told cory i never wanted any of our children

to hear us talk down to ourselves 

especially when it comes to weight.

i was partly inspired by my realization 

that a healthy body image starts with my example

and also by this incredible article.

"don't you dare talk about how much you hate your body in front of your daughter,

 or talk about your new diet. 

in fact, don't go on a diet in front of your daughter. 

buy healthy food. 

cook healthy meals. 

but don't say, "i'm not eating carbs right now." 

your daughter should never think that carbs are evil, 

because shame over what you eat only leads to shame about yourself."

that article changed my life.

as a wife.

as a parent.

as a woman.

the hardest thing to do is believe in your beauty.

but it is possible.

and once attained, incredible.