Summer is winding down and two of the 5 kids are getting excited about starting school. Well, the younger of the two is excited the older is nervous. They are both starting new schools in a new city where they don’t know any one they are going to school with. Sure, they’ve made friends with kids in the little neighborhood, but those friends are home schooled. Damn home schooling freaks.

Home schooling is something that I had thought of doing once upon a time when I had 1 kid – not 5. The ability to give my kids the one on one attention they deserve… blah blah blah. Yeah, I am looking forward to the start of school more than they are by this point in the summer.

Shopping for school supplies and new clothes is just around the corner. We have to wait to see which teachers the kids get before we can buy their specific picky supplies. Last night I downloaded both schools’ lists and laughed as I read James what they included. Down to the exact color of folders that were required. Then I remembered that these were the same damn things required when I went to school too. I wonder if my mom rolled her eyes as much as I did last night reading through the list.

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I think I get my love of reading from my mom. Every night she would crawl into her bed and read a mystery book until it was time to pass out. My brother and I were pretty much left to our own devices which meant we planted our asses in front of the tv until she yelled at us to get said asses to bed.

Sure, I read quite a bit when I was a kid but I didn’t start reading a LOT until high school – more specifically AP English. At the end of the school year my junior year we went up and got a good dozen books to read over the summer for the next school year. Being the procrastinator I am I didn’t read them until the 2 weeks leading up to school.

This time it’s Sookie Stackhouse who has taken me hostage. I had heard about the tv show True Blood, but we don’t have HBO, so I’ve never seen it but the dvds are in my Netflix queue (I wish I could watch the series instantly… ahem, Netflix.) but, like I do with movies, I gotta read the book first.

Sure, they are fluff. Vampire fluff – all the better! Although, for some reason, vampire and fluff don’t seem to meld together very well. Still, I am have been tearing through these books and only have 2 more to go. I have a bad feeling I’ll be sad when I am done, but based on how much people seem to love the show, I think I’ll survive.

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I have to get this off my chest. I have other funnier posts kinda working their way out of the rafts folder, but this one, this one has to get out now. NOW.

If you don’t know by now, we’re a family of 7. My husband, myself and our 5 daughters. My husband works long hard hours at his job. Sure, he gets a lot of overtime, but, uh, we’re a family of 7, oh, and we’re building a house without taking out any loans. I stay at home with those gorgeous 5 girls – have you even tried to think of how much it would cost to put 5 kids in daycare – even if a couple of them would be part-time?! Oh, and I am still diapering 3 and a half of those 5 (night-time potty training a nearly 5-year-old… ugh).

So, money can get tight. I am not complaining. We have little extravagant expenses that aren’t needed for daily living, but sure as hell make it a little nicer. Cable, internet, XM radio, that pesky BlackBerry addiction I’ve picked up…. With all of that I can’t help but look for deals to make those little perks bigger perks. Act like a total sweetheart and the local cable office will give you some pretty sweet deals. Have a husband who works his ass off for a company that gives out a pretty nice discount with certain cell phone providers and the BlackBerry addiction is fed. Look around online and see that certain companies are offering a really sweet deal for current customers and you gotta call them to get in on it.

That’s what I did tonight with the cable company. I ended up getting off the phone an hour later being accused to stealing cable and paying exactly what we’re paying now for what we have now. I was looking to save money by either getting in on a deal that would get us more channels than what we’re getting now for less than $10 a month. Hell, it was an online only deal, but I was hoping they could do it over the phone because for some reason I couldn’t do it online even though we should have qualified for it. If they couldn’t do that, then I would drop Starz which was costing us $7 a month and we watched no times a month.

Instead I was told that I was paying for, like, channels 2 through 15 but was getting 16 through 113 for free. That I should be paying $40 more a month for those channels and if a dude drove by in a van and saw what I was doing, he’d cut us off. Huh?

First, the customer service rep sounded like she wanted to keep this between us, but that I was still at risk for having it cut off without any notice. When I fought back that I didn’t have anything to do with the set up of their system and when I had called previously to get our cable re-hooked back up (we had turned it off for several months a while back when husband’s hours were severely cut back) that I told the person what channels I wanted, was told that to watch the local HD channels I would have to use the digital cable box (and pay $6 a month for it) and that it would cost so much per month – plus that $6 a month for the box but we could also get Starz for free. Whatever, I went for it. It was in our budget and it sounded agreeable – rather than calling DirecTV and getting that shit hooked up again.

Instead, in our account, it said that we’re only supposed to have those certain low channels and because I, being the responsible non-thief that I am, told her what channels we did get I was accused of stealing cable. Now, the rep was getting pissed off (even though I kept my cool and kept telling her that this was a shitty position to be in on both ends) and told me that those upper channels (and we’re not even talking about digital cable – just regular cable) would be turned off unless I wanted to pay an extra $40 a month.

Sigh. This is long. It was a long and stupid conversation on the phone as well. We kept going around in circles and I kept trying to get her to see things from my point of view. I threw out the kid/triplet card. I don’t have time to go into the local office – I have 5 kids. I need the fucking Disney Channel – I have 5 kids! Five girls! Who love their damn Disney Channel. She asked how I did it. I told her I didn’t know, especially since three of them were triplets.

After all of that she magically found a deal (where no deal was to be found before) where I would be paying what I ma paying now for what I have now. Um, connect the dots and maybe that’s the deal I had in the first place when I called and something got jacked up in your system?

I was too frustrated and near tears to even bring that up.I just bent over and let Mediacom shove it up my ass again. Lovely visual, but that’s seriously how I feel. I thought I would feel better writing this out. In one way I do, but I still feel like shit for being accused of something there’s no way in hell I could have pulled off on my own.

An hour on the phone… so much time I could’ve spent doing laundry – which HAS to be finished tonight. Instead I am staying up late, writing this and living with the knowledge that the cable will not be magically turned off in the middle of Jungle Junction.

Mediacom, I cannot wait to move and get out from underneath your greedy smelly thumb.

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Summertime is here. Rain every other day or so. When it rains, it rains. Today was a perfect example. Shortly after Emma made it to the recreation center’s summer program it started pouring and it hasn’t stopped. Last year I could easily keep the kids pretty entertained indoors, this year – not so much.

As the triplets get older, so do their vocabularies. (dammit) If you mention to the dogs if they would, say “like to go potty outside” – Katie immediately starts chanting “OUTSIDE!” while frantically putting on some shoes. They love being outside. I can’t say I blame them, I hate being cooped up in the house all the damn time. What they don’t understand is rain. Rain is fun. Rain makes puddles for jumping in. Rain is the awesome.

It’s not like we live in the South and the rain is warm and a relief on a hot day. It’s cold and shiver making. Not that I would trade in the cold rain for the hot South. I remember those damn cockroaches in Texas … I still have nightmares of them. Add to that a special episode of Billy the Exterminator that James treated us to while we were eating dinner tonight that featured a home infested with black widow spiders. That is shiver making.

Tomorrow is supposed to be nice and I tentatively promised to take the kids for a walk. Not only for their need of fresh air, but because I have a doctor’s appointment on Friday for my 6 month post-op. These appointments make me nervous because I have a constant fear that I am not losing enough weight fast enough. I hate that my life is still so focused on weight.

Yes, I am crazy. How about you?

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I dreamed I wrote a post on here. I also had a dream where I was having some sort of twitter disagreement with people who probably don’t know I exist – not that they’re famous or anything, I just don’t do anything to make me famous and therefore open to be poked at by people who like to poke at other people for being themselves.

That sort of poking is not the same sort of poking that goes on over there on Facebook. That sort of poking seems kinda pervy, which is why I like it so much. Not that I do it. No, not me. I am innocent and angelic dammit.

There is a post brewing in this noggin. The babies, who aren’t really babies at all, turned 2 yesterday. To celebrate James and I hung sheet rock. Ahem. Oh, come on, we’re not *that* mean. We had cake and stuff the day before.

Speaking of dreams… the 5 of us that are currently in this here house are in need of a nap. We’re all still trying to catch up on some much needed sleep after kicking ass on the house this weekend – which was an extra long weekend thanks to 2 extra days off and then that other extra day off. Needless to say, I am pooped and James is starting to work 12 hour days – which really means he’ll be gone for 14 hours a day since the work is an hour away…. not that I am complaining or anything – we do need the money.

Money is rather annoying in that sense.

Did I mention the triplets are 2? Holy crap it doesn’t feel like it’s been that long. OK, sometimes it does, but they are growing up. Weep. No more babies. Wah. Although they are fully convinced they will fall into the toilet every time I put them on it. (they demand, I give in. I am a sucker.)

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Icky is one of those words that is over used in this house. Whatever you don’t want the kids to put in their mouths, which is damn near everything, you scream out “ICKY!” and they suddenly put it down declaring that it is, indeed, icky.

Rocks, bouncy balls that have some how escaped their big sister’s bedroom, food that’s been in the dog’s mouth, dog food (the have even sampled it and like it… Iams natural something or other… not just for the pups!), their sister’s feet… the list goes on and on.

Today, while I was making lunch Megan came up to the gate that blocks off the kitchen (see above about the dog food). She held something up and kept yelling “ICKY!!” at me. I glanced over and thought it was a rock that came off one of the shoes. I told her that it was icky and to throw it on the floor in the kitchen so I could put it back outside where it belonged.

Then…. I saw it move.

It was a HUGE wood tick. One that had lived on the dog for a good period of time before it couldn’t hold on any longer because it’s little legs were much too short for it’s massive, blood filled body. Have I put you off your dinner yet?

I ran over and hit it out of her hand before she decided to see if it was really icky by putting it in her mouth. I told her that it was VERY VERY ICKY and that she did a GREAT JOB bringing it to mommy. I then searched the kitchen for this monster. I found it on it’s back next to the dog.

I carefully picked it up with a paper towel and brought it to the trash can. Before I dropped it in thoughts of it crawling out and attacking us in our sleep crossed through my mind. So, I wadded the paper towel around and around the wood tick and pressed it up against the wall until I heard a very loud pop. Quickly I threw the paper towel in the garbage and called my husband to share the story.

Why should I be the only one who couldn’t handle having lunch because of a wood tick? I share because I care. Really.

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It’s been four months since I had gastric bypass surgery and last week I reached a magnificent milestone. I am below 200 pounds! 197 this morning to be exact. I have lost 60 pounds in the past year, most of it since January. I’ve gone from a size 20/22 to a 16 and that’s getting loose now. I have another 50 pounds or so to go before I reach my realistic goal. I don’t think I am meant to be extremely thin, like my 105 pound mother. I didn’t have surgery to be skinny, rather to be more healthy.

I am able to do so many things that I couldn’t do before. I can climb through the Suburban without any effort. I can cross my legs – both ways! (I used to only really be able to cross them with my left leg on top of my right. Even then, my legs would quickly fall asleep.) I can dance around the living room with the kids without immediately sweating profusely and losing my breath.

I have also injured myself. Or re-injured. When I was a junior in high school, I hurt my left knee in a freak dance accident while on choir tour. *cough* I am a klutz, OK? Anyway, I didn’t have said knee fixed for quite a long time… like 7 years. By that time I needed surgery on both knees because the right one compensated for the left and I had gained 40 pounds or so. So, both knees were scoped and all was well. Only now, they are grinding again and my left knee is in some serious pain.

Also, the hips are loose. Like when you’re pregnant and things are spreading down there and all of the sudden you’re not really being held together and only the grace of god is keeping your legs upright. I am supposed to do exercises for both of these issues. Building up muscle to make these joints superhuman… or just a bit stronger and not so wonky.

Here’s the most surprising thing, I want to run. I have never been a runner. Never. Ever. No. I haven’t given into my dreams (yes, I have had dreams of running.) until my knees and hips are back to not feeling like they are on a 85 year old woman.

I don’t want this all to seem like a foggy dreamland. The surgery doesn’t make your automatically lose weight. You could still eat like total crap and you’d gain back the weight you lost quickly. It’s been work. I have to talk to myself at night when I want a bowl of popcorn. Luckily James knows I am a loon already, so he just ignores it when he hears me say “I am not hungry. I just want to eat popcorn because I am bored.” Then he goes to the kitchen and makes himself a bowl of cereal.

The doctors and nurses drill into your head that the surgery is a tool, one of many, to help you lose weight. You, the patient, are ultimately the one in control of your weight loss. I like being in control. *ahem* I didn’t have control of my eating before. I do now.

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Three of my 5 kids are sick, 2 of those are heading to the doctor today. Katie has been covering up her ears and telling off anyone who decides to test their lungs out. I am not fully convinced that she has an ear infection, but I’d rather be safe than sorry.

Fevers are pretty high – in the 102-103 range. I’m keeping them down the only way that has ever worked – rotating ibuprofen and acetaminophen. (Motrin, then 2 hours later Tylenol, then 4 hours later Motrin again… repeat) I didn’t learn this trick until Abby (4) came down with a fever when she was a baby that would not go away and freaked me the crap out. One nurse I talked to told me to give her Pedialyte and I put her in the “crazy ass people” list ever since.

Kids when they’re sick like to cuddle. I, believe it or not, love to cuddle. Not that I want the kids to be sick all of the time, but it is nice when they aren’t splitting up in 3 different directions to destroy whatever they can get their hands on.

That is the newest trick the triplets have up their sleeves. It used to be that they would all 3 go to a certain spot and get up on whatever there was to get up on with Megan taking the lead as the official monkey-doodle of the house. She would then pull Katie up and the two of them would get Lauren up. Now, they are all monkeys and can climb on whatever they want – quickly. Needless to say, I spend most of my days running after kids yelling “NO!! Down!!” while they laugh at me.

At least my kids think I am funny.

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I want to write when I don’t feel so angry and frustrated. It seems as if I am angry and frustrated a lot. When I am not so angry and frustrated I am busy doing other things.

I love my kids but lately they have been pushing every available button I have. I lay at night worrying I yell too much or that I am not such a great mom. These walls of our house have been closing in on us. The winter is over but we are still stuck inside as our backyard is a minefield of dog do-do.

I am too angry and frustrated to deal with dog do-do. I deal with other people’s do-do enough during the day. I need the sunshine to seep into my brain. I need to breathe some fresh air. I need to hear my kids laughing instead of bickering with each other. I need a nap. I am needy.

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