D-Day as in "De bambino cometh"

Holy moly, crapoly. Where did time go? How does time simultaneously go so slow, yet fly by when you are pregnant? How do you not gain any weight for months and then slap on a ton in 8 weeks time? How do you start a pregnancy promising that you'll be better at it, that it will be easier and you will be HAPPY, then find yourself nine months later with your lip puckered out begging a doctor to PLEASE, OH, PLEASE take this baby out of my body?

I don't have an answer to any of the above questions.

I do know that in 2 days, yes, that's right, on October 1st, 2010, little Max Qualls (or big Max Qualls as my belly is suggesting) will be in my arms. And his dad's arms. And big brother Rylan's arms.

At my last appointment, I was 38 weeks, measuring 41 weeks, and going crazy. I have now been having contractions for 20 weeks. I have been hobbling for 6 weeks with a prematurly separated pubic bone. And, most importantly, I might be going crazy. I stuck that lip that I used on my dad growing up, on my husband when I'm looking for sympathy, and on my son when I'm trying to convey that his actions "hurt mama's feelings." I was whiny patient. He became my priest and we were in confession.

"I can barely walk enough to make it through Wal Mart."

"I can't hold my son"

"I haven't worked since June" (just between us, not so sad about that one)

Dr. Santa/Kenny Rogers look-a-like took pity on my swollen foot soul and moved the date up to October 1st. This also happens to be a Friday, meaning that the time in the hospital will be on the weekend. So, Rob's week off with us won't start till the day we come home from the hospital. YAY!!!!! This Friday option will also mean that my parents and sister(s) will get to come and Rob's parents get to come. PLUS-my doctor is on call all weekend, so we still get his awesome services instead of dealing with unknown on-call doctor OR EVEN WORSE-my doctor from my pregnancy with Rylan (lazy piece of poo in my humble opinion).

So in 1.5 days, baby Qualls will be here. Yay!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I'll post some pics of what we've been up to lately tomorrow.

From bunny ears to a million choices

Let's take a break from talk of babies and toddlers. For one moment.

Something's happened to me. You see, one of the ways we have been able to have me at home and not work, is that we don't have cable or satellite. For over a year, we've had a pitiful set of bunny ears sitting next to our TV. We get PBC, NBC, ABC, CBS, Fox and about 5 Christian stations. And I've been okay with it. I am aware of my ability to get absolutely HOOKED on shows. I am also aware of a self diagnosed disease that I have, called CHBLATCS or "Can't Help But Look at the Crazy Syndrome." I see crazy and I can't stop watching. In life, in books, on TV.

Well, for the second time, Rob and I are due to have a baby smack dab in the middle of Razorback season. Rob is a pretty big fan. And growing bigger by the year (I seriously wasn't aware of his growing love for the Hogs when we got married, and I feel that we need to go back to the pre-marriage counseling classes to talk about it. However, Rob wasn't aware of my extreme nomadic sleep habits, so I guess we're even). Anyway, Rob has been to the first two Razorback games of the season, but he has been grounded to the house for the remainder of the pregnancy and probably for a few games after the baby is born. So, we have ourselves not one, but two rooms with satellite AND a little piece of heaven called the DVR.

Add in the fact that I have needed extra rest time due to a persnickety uterus and ouchy pubic bone issues. Cue Sara's CHBLATCS. I admit, I have watched a reality show about Kirstie Alley's weight loss, a show dedicated to women who didn't know they were pregnant (bull shiz), a show about a pawn shop, another about truckers who drive on ice, and a show called Bad Girls Club, which has 5 of the WORST women in the world all living under one roof, drinking and fighting a lot. There was also a ten minute period last night where I actually sat through the Kardashian sister's show. At one point I realized that I would rather give birth 10 more times than watch one more minute of that show. Must kill the beast.

I am very happy to have some old favorites back that make for good, quality (in my opinion, maybe not yours) back. Man vs. Food, Ace of Cakes, Project Runway, and a new show that's strangely hilarious, since its about cancer, called The C Word.

Luckily, in 3 short weeks, I'll have a bouncing baby boy and a bouncing big boy that will keep me plenty busy.

And I'm sure baby Max will sleep all night long by four weeks old, so I won't even have time to watch my DVR'd shows in the middle of the night. Uh huh.

Does this shirt make me look pregnant?

We've made it to 36 weeks. One more week and Little Bit will be considered full term. And that whole preterm labor worry? Gone. Know why? Despite having a zillion contractions a day and my pelvis deciding to widen without my okay, our smart little baby decided he didn't feel like scooting his head down where its supposed to go. He heard its a tight squeeze and that they're bones there and they expect you to stay that way for weeks at a time. He is perfectly happy to chill/relax (chillax?) directly underneath my ribcage, which makes breathing and eating more difficult, but hey, I've said it before, preggars can't be choosers. The doctor actually said that despite the contractions, my cervix is "Fort Knox." However embarrassing it is to be told this by a jolly doctor that looks like Kenny Rogers and Santa had a baby together, it is music to my ears, since all those contractions kind of make you afraid you'll deliver a baby on your living room floor.

I'm super appreciative to my parents and sister, who came to watch over me and help me take care of Rylan while Rob was away at a Razorback game. And to my friends Kristi and Michelle who have each kept Rylan a day a week for the last few weeks. They have provided him with activity and social interaction while I rested my angry, squeezy uterus.

Now that we are sooooo close, I'm feeling that super-nesting coming on. My brain has big plans, my body says "get back on that couch lady, I'm not done being persnickety quite yet."

Here's some stats:

- I am 36 weeks, measuring 38 weeks (glad to see he's taking after Rylan).

-My blood pressure was 110/70 today. Pretty dang good. I had a little blood pressure issue at the end of my last pregnancy, I'm hoping this good BP stays around.

-I had to retire the wedding ring to the drawer 2 weeks ago. Today the engagement ring (which has always been a smidge bigger) had to join the wedding ring :(

-My toes look like sausages, but they are fabulously painted bright pink with white flowers. Pretty sausages.

-Every day I discover a pregnancy shirt that is too short for me. Every day. First time in my life I've ever had to deal with something being "TOO SHORT" on me.

-Rylan could care less about the belly, any word of a baby, or the baby kicking. He's busy. Buzz Lightyear has stepped into unchartered territory and has to save the planet from the threat of Zurg.

-We have a name. For those of you we haven't told here it is

MAXTON ROBERT QUALLS (Max)

I have loved the name Max forever. It was a frontrunner when we named Rylan. Except that back then, Christina Aquilara and Jennifer Lopez had babies named Max and we were afraid that it was going to take off like some names do. As soon as I found out I was pregnant this time, I kinda sensed BOY and I liked Max from the start. Once we saw the name Maxton (in the high profile section of the newspaper of all places), we found our name. We had a moment, much like the moment when we found the perfect name, Rylan.

My Blueberry Boy

We Qualls's love some blueberry pancakes.

Rylan loved them all over his face.

Into his eye

The blueberry hands should help really seal the blueberry color into the eyebrows.

Mean ole' uterus

Rylan's been having to spend some extra time at friend's houses because my uterus has gone all irritable again. Its fine to have contractions, just not fine if you can count them and that count is less than every 6 minutes. I've had a few runs of every 5 minutes and even a little scare of 3 minutes. Because these contractions earned us 3 extra Labor and Delivery visits during our Rylan pregnancy, visits where we sat and got stared at and eventually sent home, Rob and I aren't in a hurry to go back. So, I've hit the couch, propped the feet up, guzzled water and Tylenol PM (which strangely help, don't ask me why, I'm just a knocked up nurse). As long as I can stop the frequent ones, we are doing okay. Its a mind game really. And I'm pretty sick of my uterus giving my babies such a hostile environment in their first home!

Here are some pics of a day where Rylan entertained us both while I propped the feet up. If you wonder what he's wearing, its one of my maternity shirts. He was trying to put it on, so I helped him, and he was too cute to not snap some shots.

Most precious little boy.

Those rare moments

When you have a newborn, you don't think about the fact that in a few short months, said newborn will learn to crawl, then walk, and then run. Sitting on your lap for a whole book, much less a movie becomes a thing of the past. Don't get me wrong. Rob and I are aware that we had a good run. Rylan was content to hang by us and sit in our laps, and be rocked to sleep a good 10 months before he found his crawling legs. At a year, he still let me go get a big stack of books and read to him. No more, Rylan's favorite nighttime activity is our own game of "ready, set, go" where he does line sprints across the living room for 20 minutes or so. He eventually settles down to look at a book all by himself. Usually around 8pm, he gets his blankie out of his crib and stands by his door moaning "maaaaammmmmaaaaa" until one of us puts him to bed.

So, we've learned to take the occassional cuddles, kisses and hugs and savor, savor, savor. I was in our room the other night and came out to this site. And what a magical site it was. Rylan and Rob, cute and cute, all cozied up watching TV together.

Our latest visitors

Last weekend, Rob's parents came to visit us. Rylan loves having company. He immediately goes and gets on his bouncing zebra and then runs laps back and forth hoping for some laughter. He totally enjoyed handing out animal crackers and Grandma let him watch Toy Story 2 twice while Mama napped. Shazam!

Here Ry shows off our only living plants. Everything else burnt in the fire (or August heat, whatever you want to call it)

Happy times

Rob's mom, Sandy, brought us ribs and corn on the cob and baked beans for dinner. She always offers, and I always say no, just bring yourself. But, I'm a little off my game, now that I'm 77 weeks pregnant (okay, 34) and not up to my usual finding fun things to cook for guests, so I said "BRING IT ON!" It was delicious. And let's just say that ribs and corn go down on Rylan's favorites list.

Rylan had his friend, Aubrey, over on Tuesday. Neither one felt like taking a nap, and they are a little busy for me to sit and read to them, so I got them some scooters out and they had baby derby in the kitchen. Aubrey is nearly one, and she finds it highly hilarious to "chase" Rylan places. So, when she would catch up to his scooter, she would laugh hysterically. Good indoor fun.

"I might have picked up Rylan's water cup when you weren't looking. Can you tell?"