Meth Addiction vs. Twins

I confess I've really been dragging this week.  In the worst way.  But I didn't realize how bad I really looked until I looked through some pictures my mom had taken of me and Pierce, building a gingerbread house we got on after Christmas clearance.  Wow.  I really look rough!  Kind of reminded me of those druggie pictures.  You know, this is what you look after 6 months to 6 years on meth:

See, here I am with Pierce the summer before getting pregnant with the twins. 

I look happy.  Alive.  Skinny.  Vibrant.  Like I had just run 8 miles on trails.  Effortlessly.  Which I had.  It was a gorgeous late August day in one of our nearby state parks, where we had rented a cabin. 

Now are you ready for this?  It's ugly.  This is real life, what carrying twins to full term and living without sleep for months and months and months can do to you.  Viewer discretion is advised.

Somehow, I expect the ups of having two healthy baby boys are a million times better than the ups of methamphetamine.  :-)  Thankfully. 

As for our gingerbread house Pierce and I made.  Well, it faired about as well as the meth addicts:

I kind of know how it feels.