I messed up NaBloPoMo, the month of nonstop blogging. I went to bed and remembered that I hadn’t posted just as my eye closed. I was too tired to get up and find something witty to say and went to sleep. The days that followed were busy (what day isn’t?!) and I couldn’t find a way to get back on the wagon.

See, I fall off the wagon a lot. It took me 5+ real good attempts to quit smoking before I kicked the habit. Still, when I smell a good cigarette I crave it like mad (some seem to smell like monkey ass, or what I would assume a monkey’s ass would smell like because I, myself, have most definitely NOT smelled a monkey’s ass before). My grandpa quit when I was a kid after I tried to beat him to his chair (it was really my grandma’s recliner – a present thing) and his ashes burned holes in the fabric. He says he still craves them every once in a while.

I’ve fallen off the diet/lifestyle change wagon more times than I can count. Hit a plateau, throw my hands up in the air and say “screw it” while eating an entire bag of M&M’s. I haven’t really fallen off the wagon in these past 6 months. I have really settled it in my head that I am going to do this damn lifestyle change and get ready to live life now eating as if I had already had gastric bypass surgery – but with bigger portions, cos, dude, I can’t live on 3 tablespoons of food per meal.

Monday I finally finished my psych evaluations. She wanted to see me one more time to make sure I was able to kick any residual snacking habits. She seems pretty comfortable with her findings but warned me that they (the hospital doing the surgery & my insurance aka the man) might want me to start therapy once again.

Part of me really would like to go to therapy to work out some shit in my head. The other side, the stubborn bitch who has kept me on track these past 6 months, is kinda insulted that they think I can’t be both depressed and not turn to food. My depression is well under control with medication right now and the feeling I got from the nurses at the hospital where I will have surgery was that they were cool with this.

Only time can tell, I suppose. I seem to have all of my ducks in a row – although getting other people to do the same isn’t that easy. My doctor’s nurse still has not faxed down some vital information that I have asked her several times to do. I am hoping that by the end of the week I’ll be receiving a phone call from the hospital wanting to set up the last of my appointments before I have surgery.

This is finally happening. Oddly, I am getting nervous. Excited and scared.

I know that you can fall off the wagon after having gastric bypass surgery and gain back all of the weight. Thing is, that bitchy stubborn side of me won’t let that happen. I am determined to do this.

Now if only I could find the determination to finish some knitting projects I’ve begun. MITTENS!! I am going to knit mittens until I can knit mittens no more. I figure that someone will always need a pair of those dang things. I am trying to weed through several pretty good (and easy) patterns on Ravelry. I need a pattern that can be worn on either hand. Hell if I am going to be searching for lefts and rights with 5 kids.

We went to the in laws today and came home with 2 kittens. The hell?

They are cute and pictures will come forth shortly. The animals now out-number the humans… 2 of them are my mothers, but still.

Here is my favorite of the Halloween pictures. I know it’s a week late – do I have to remind you about the whole procrastination thing??

Case in point: I had to get out of bed to post this. Couldn’t stand to mess up NaBloPoMo.

Without further ado….

The make-up didn’t stay on for long… and looking at some of the pictures, they didn’t really like it in the first place.

Ah, Halloween. It’s all about the torture.

I love the news… I hate the news. I love being informed but can’t handle the news much these days. I will hear just a tidbit of a news story about a child who died and turn the channel. I don’t want my kids to listen to the non-ending CNN coverage of breaking news. Balloon Boy, Fort Hood, gang rape at school … it goes on and on.

My heart is broken as it is. It cracks more and more thinking of the suffering. Was there always this suffering and we just didn’t know it because of the absence of 24-hour news networks?

What about the people who the stories focus on? Now they are hot topics for Nancy Grace and the like.The more horrific the crime, the more she gets worked up, the higher the ratings are. Yet, there are those behind it all who are trying to tape their hearts back together with duct tape.

I have no idea where I am really going with this. Just turning the tv off for a bit, I suppose. Not to live with blinders on, but to keep my tape on for just a little bit longer.

I am a procrastinator. I was the one who didn’t really start a project until it was due within a couple of days. I’d use the excuse that I worked better under pressure and that if I had finished the paper weeks ago I would’ve rewritten it over and over again.

James seems to be the same way. I asked him several times to email me the pictures his mom took of the babies on Halloween. No pictures. I may have to resort to breaking into his laptop to email them to me myself.

In other news it was just snowing outside and then it suddenly stopped. There was no snow in the forecast. Someone is messing with me.

Also, even though the rest of my body may be warm, if my nose is cold, I am cold. I also like commas and the overuse of them. My nose is cold. I am going to bed. Wake me in June when it finally warms up a bit.

Well, today’s voting day wasn’t as exciting as it was last year. his year the only thing bringing us to the polls was a school referendum. The district is broker than broke and laid off a good chunk of teachers this year along with getting rid of just about every sport they couldn’t combine with a neighboring district.

I hate to admit this, but one of the biggest reasons why we are moving is because of the school here. It’s a tiny district made up of 2 towns – one town has the elementary while the other has the high school. There are some sports for the guys, but very very little for the girls. The options for classes are slim as well. It makes me sad to see how different of an education some of these kids are getting compared to what I got when I was a kid.

…and I am totally not doing the whole “when I was a kid we walked to school … up hill .. both ways!” thing. I was afforded several advanced placements classes as well as just about every sport the guys played. OK, I most definitely was not a sports person, but I was a huge music and drama person. They no longer have music and art classes at my daughter’s school. Her teacher might teach art, when she has the time.

These referendums (there were 3 of them) would more than likely double the property taxes of those who live in the district. Sounds awful, right? Except we pay less than $200 a year in property taxes. Get your jaw up off the floor.

When we move we’re going to pay 5 times that.

Looking at the news now, it looks like only 1 of the three passed. It’s better than nothing, but the school needs more. These kids deserve more. They deserve to go to a school where they don’t need to dress in layers because the heat is turned down so much. They deserve to have swimming lessons instead of having them canceled because they can’t afford to fix the pool. They deserve so much more, but I don’t think they’ll ever get it.

I am a huge asshole in it all, because we’re fleeing. We want better for our kids (without them having to sit on the bus for a very long time).

I am totally phoning it in today. Today has been odd and capped off in a most painful way.

Plus: I am not nuts. A bit depressed and have low self esteem, but duh, I knew that. Still requiring one more counseling session in 2 weeks. Surgery happening this year is looking like less and less of a possibility.

I found 3 princess dresses in the clearance racks at Target. The babies can’t wear them until they are, oh 3, but I am planning ahead. Plus, Abby can wear them for Halloween for a couple of years…. she’s very pleased.

My mother in law brought over awesome pictures of the kiddos dressed up for Halloween. Will get those posted tomorrow.

Now the minus: I have a farking migraine. It’s radiating down my neck and I am riding the nausea rollercoaster. I don’t like rollercoasters. At.all. It goes back to being bullied into riding the Corkscrew at Valleyfair. I’ve been a hater ever since.

I am a bad bad daughter. Today is my dad’s 60th birthday and I have not called him. I can’t handle any noise what-so-ever. Will got he easy way out and email him in the morning explaining. Will also try to set something up this weekend as James is on call.

Speaking of James being on call – we can’t go to a birthday party for a daughter of some good friends. They moved away a few months ago… can’t be too far from home.

AND since James is on call we won’t be able to ee the house if and when it gets it’s roof. Finally. Yay.

I’d be more excited, but my brain and it’s stem are begging me to remain motionless. I am trying to get through a bit of Mrs. Kimble by Jennifer Haigh but it’s kinda depressing me. I also have The Blind Side to read. Football feel-good story that is a new movie with Sandra Bullock. I am a sucka for Sandra Bullock.

I have participated in NaBloPoMo for the past few years. In the beginning I was well into the whole blogging thing and thought it would be a really cool way to find other blogs. Plus, it gave me an excuse to post every single day. As the years went on it started to become a kick in the pants to post more than once a month…

I had a post written in my head last night. Several things happened that lead to a night of misery for both James and I. Ethan’s name popped up several times throughout the day in the most unexpected way. The push over the edge was watching the movie Rachel Getting Married with Anne Hathaway. The movie had been sitting in it’s Netflix envelope for over a month forgotten, but this past weekend James and I were heading to the camper without the kids….

So, the basic plot of the movie is this girl, Kym, is getting out of rehab for a few days to attend her sister, Rachel’s wedding. Kym has been in and out of rehab for over a decade after her little brother died in a car accident that she caused when she was high on pain killers. Her brothers name? Ethan.

It didn’t help that I also identified with the mom and sister issues… I couldn’t stop crying. It was like my eyes are dripping faucets that could not be stopped. James knows that I am a crybaby when it comes to emotional movies. He’s also a very wise man and never looks at me and laughs as I bawl over some fictional piece of crap that we’re watching. He just hands me the tissues and goes back to the screen. What a man.

After the movie ended the ball of emotion was growing in my throat and I couldn’t stop it. When it erupts it feels like my entire body is having a major earthquake. James asked what was wrong…and I ended up pulling him into my grief cellar with me. I hated that I had made him hurt as much as I was hurting.

Ethan died nearly 6 years ago. The hurt? It’s still there. When I get down into the darkness that elephant climbs back on my chest and I feel as if I could suffocate at any moment. There is a huge part of my heart that isn’t with us any more. I don’t know if it’s buried with Ethan or just floating in the ether… but it’s not with me.

Thing is, I wouldn’t changing him dying. I know that might sound completely awful of me. If Ethan hadn’t died we would not have Abby, Lauren, Katie or Megan. Our life would have revolved around Emma and Ethan. Ethan would more than likely had some very special needs and we would not have gone the route that we did to have our other daughters.

It is not that I love Ethan less or wish he had died. It’s just the facts that are out there. His dead has taken me down a path that I would have never been on had he not died. Some of this path really sucks while some of it is lined with happiness and butterflies.

I am on kind of a sucky part of the path right now. Eyes are puffy and I would much rather stay in bed for a little while longer. Instead I get out of bed to be greeted by hugs and kisses from my girls. I think they can sense my funk even if they don’t understand.

So, here’s to blogging through the funk.

Last week I went to take three psychological evaluations, you know, just for fun. Actually, they were one of a million hoops I have to jump through before I have gastric by-pass surgery. I totally understand the need for these tests, let’s face it, if you have some major psychological issues you should wait to get that straightened out before you go have major surgery. There are many good things that weight loss surgery can do, giving you self-esteem isn’t one of them.

Some of the questions made me laugh. You’d think that they’d try to be sneaky when figuring out if you’re a pyromaniac or not. No way, they ask you if you like starting fires and if you’re not afraid of fire. In one of the other tests I was asked several times if I was lying in my answers or telling the truth. They were worded in such a way that you really had to pay attention before you answered true or false.

I don’t know my results yet. I was pretty truthful and the psychiatrist I am seeing knows that I don’t have the greatest of self-esteem currently. I have also completely Dr. Phil’d my ass, so I know what my issues are and I know what they stem from.

So, Monday I find out how messed up I really am and if I could potentially be a police officer. The first test that I took is the same one they issue to police offer wannabes. Awesome.

I have broken you. I took a thick stick and took your knees out. I then poked you with said stick over and over again trying to make you bleed. There was little resistance. It was as if you had been waiting for this moment for month and finally it was here. You laid there like a helpless puppy dog who is getting the most lovely belly rub of it’s life. You took whatever it was that I shoved at you and did with it what you were told even if it was the completely wrong thing to do.

You were like putty in my hands and I wanted to keep manipulating you. Alas the night wore on and I needed sleep. So I left you, all torn apart for the world to see. Gaping wounds and unfinished thoughts. I left you that way for the better part of a week. I was off wrestling other demons and came back to work you over when I had a chance to escape from my own.

I am stubborn. I know what I want. Most of the time. I can create it and then second guess what I’ve made. Is it ever good enough? Am I ever good enough? I am Dr. Phil’ing myself again, something the social worker who is meeting with me before my gastric by-pass surgery was impressed with. If she only knew what other shit brews beneath the surface. Oh, she’ll have time to sort though that, we’re getting to it sometime toward the end of the month when I take a test to prove I am not a complete loon. Or maybe I am?

I am sorry, dear little blog. I have such high hopes for you. Your failure is my own because you are an extension of me. My design skills have taken an extra long stint of hibernation. I get the itch to do it all over again but end up staying up until 2am making something that I think is completely brilliant only to think it’s complete shit the next day when I am trying to operate on very little sleep.

I could do what I think I should do – hire someone to do what I want to do. Thing is, I can’t justify spending money on something that no one really reads. Sure, there are those cool people who get these posts from my little cross poster plugin, but this blog … it’s a dead zone.

Do I keep trying and work to make it something that I can be proud of again? Do I give it all up and vanish into the ether? I haven’t figured that stuff out yet. This is starting to resemble a bit of an abusive relationship. I can only beat on you for so long, right?

There’s something about this dark rainy autumn weather. It throws me into a funk that’s stinkier than cabin fever in March. Every day lately has been “a really long day” and I think James is sick of hearing about it. I would love nothing more than to stay in bed and sleep .. or read a book … or design a website – without being called for every moment or being hung on like a tree full of monkeys. I know I am lucky to have what I have, but it’s endless.

I tend to avoid writing when I get like this. Who wants to hear about someone bitching and moaning all the time? So, not only am I beating on my blog theme, but I am beating on myself and every single person around me. Those blankets look so welcoming….

I totally broke my promise to blog every day. I am in a bit of a funk. James is out of town working again this week. Suddenly I’ve become all needy and overly emotional. OK, I am both of those things all of the time, but this is that stuff cranked to 11.

Because of said funk I have been avoiding the blog and Twitter. I have also sorta slacked on the whole working out for 30 minutes a day. I was doing really well until Tuesday when the funky cloud came rolling in.I started telling myself that I did so much physical labor over the weekend that I could fudge a day or so. Suddenly it’s Thursday and my shoes are sitting by the treadmill rejected.

I am finding my motivation again and will get my ass back in gear. Working out definitely makes me feel better both mentally and physically. I just need to remember that feeling when the babies are down for their nap and I have the free time to work some of this ass off my body.

I am insane. I keep wondering if I’ve set myself up for failure. I am too damn stubborn though.

I can tell that the phentermine is working. I have little want to munch on the popcorn that kids are snacking on. I also ate less than Emma at dinner. Trying to eat until I am not hungry seems to work.

Keeping the kids from bickering while they snack on popcorn? IMPOSSIBLE. I never knew kids could fight over such non-issues before in my life. My mom just nods her head when I tell her what they’re up to and reminds me that I was the same way with my siblings when I was little.

I also dyed my hair today! It’s darker than I thought, but it’s always darker the first few days. I soaked my hair with Biosilk Silk Therapy and am brushing it through over and over and over again. I kinda feel like Marsha Brady.

James has been gone all week working out-of-town and I’ve been doing the single parent thing (with the help of my mother in law in the afternoons). Abby, our 4 year old, has acted out. Usually there are two of us here and one of us can give her the attention she craves. With just me… I don’t have enough hands.

Today, Abby made a list of things we need to do together tonight (with the help of Emma for the writing bit).It reads as follows:

make blizzards
make cookies
have ice cream
have popcorn
watch movie
sleep on air bed downstairs
take bath
cuddle

We’ve had the popcorn and cuddled. I’ll air up the air bed shortly but there’s no way in hell I’m sleeping on it! The rest of it will have to wait… I told her that we will do at least one of the things on her list every night.

This week has shown me that I can do the single parenting thing by myself if I have to, but I don’t like it. I was a single mother for several years, but I only had one child. Five children (three of whom are 15 mont old triplets!) is a bit harder than taking care of one.

Last night and this morning I got my ass on the treadmill. I lubed that sucka up nice and good; plus I cleaned off all the dust that’s accumulated in the past year or more (ok, maybe 2). Set the time and the MPH and I was off.

I learned a couple of things.

One, I am out of shape.

Two, my arches are out of shape.

I felt better after doing it and wondered why I hadn’t been doing it in the past. Much like after you’ve had a really long dry spell in the sex department and then you have like really good sex and you wonder why you stopped bothering with sex completely. Then you remember you have like 5 kids. Not that this has ever happened to me.

Tomorrow I am going to mix it up and take the babies out for a walk outside. Summer is slowly coming to an end and soon enough we’ll be cooped up in the house. My mother in law has come over to help with the kids during the afternoons until the babies go to bed at 7:30pm. So, with her here I have an extra set of hands to push a stroller!

Again, to all of your baby product people. I would totally love a triple stroller. If you have one that you’re not using and wanna send it my way, by all means, do it!

I think I am going to dye my hair tomorrow. My poor hair pays the price of my boredom. I’ve been a blond for most of the summer. Now the roots are starting to make me look a little too white trash for my liking. My natural color is light brown, but I am going to a warm caramel brown.

Ahh the end of summer. Make me think of pumpkin bars and caramel apples. I love this time of year, but hate what comes after.

Last month the awesome Mrs. Flinger put out a challenge for people to do 30 days of … whatever.  I commented that there were several things that I needed to do and this was a perfect opportunity to do one or more of them. Being the slacker that I am, I didn’t.

I totally blame Mrs. Flinger. I mean, she chose a month that has 31 days! What sense does that make? AND she didn’t complete it either. So, I don’t feel like such a slacker and I got to work on my blaming everyone else but myself for my own shortcomings. Awesome!

I’ve decided that I need to set myself a goal and stick to it. My 30 days of blanking won’t involve blanking the entire month (unlike August – total blank.) and it won’t involve 30 days of bonking either (you went there too!) because the husband is out-of-town working.

This month I am going to do 30 minutes of exercise for 30 days. I thought about doing the Jillian Michaels – 30 Day Shred, but Jillian Michaels is eeeeeeeevil and I couldn’t walk right for a week after doing 1 night of it waaay back in June. I know, I know, work through the pain. No pain, no gain. I am a wuss. Deal with it.

The master plan of this whole 30 day insanity is to get the rest of the family in on the deal. The older half of the family, that is. I don’t want to torture the babies or the 4 year old any more than I already do.

So that’s the plan, Stan. Get my ass off the couch for 30 days. Saying it out loud on here is my way of keeping me accountable. Why? Because I am going to blog my way through this month. You’ve been warned!!

Time to get goin’! First, I need a nap.

I am having gastric bypass surgery. Not tomorrow, but in a few months. My insurance provider requires that I have 6 months of doctor monitored weight loss. Plus, the hospital that I am having surgery at wants me to lose about 15 pounds before surgery. I have lost no weight.

I admit it’s because I have been too tired to get my ass on the treadmill every night or because I have nightmares of Jillian Michaels and the 30 Day Shred. I have kept track of my caloric intake and it’s between 1500 and 2000 calories a day. Unfortunately, I am not burning more than I am taking in. I am burning exactly what I am taking in because my weight has not budged.

Finding the time to work out with the babies is damn near impossible. I know, I could figure it out if I were really motivated. Hell, if I were really motivated I wouldn’t be having gastric bypass.  The whole thyroid and PCOS thing just adds a few kinks to the chain.

I am really great at coming up with excuses. Dudes, I am just too fucking tired, ok. My thyroid is on the higher end of normal (which means I need more thyroid meds) but because it’s within the normal range my doctor will not up my medication.

Tomorrow, I meet with my doctor once again. I haven’t weighed myself, but I am guessing I haven’t lost a damn thing. I hate walking into his office as a failure. I mean, this is why I am having the surgery, right? I can’t manage to lose weight myself; or I can using fad diets but I can never keep it off.

My plan, with my doctor’s approval, is to do the whole SlimFast thing. It fits into my life now where I barely have time to eat a meal and when I do, I shove whatever I can into my mouth as quickly as I can before another child’s crisis arises.

I hate SlimFast. I only have to do it for 2 months. If it all goes down as the plan is supposed to, I will be having surgery in November. I am scared and excited all at the same time. Even though I’ve planned on having the surgery for several years (was to be visited seriously after I was done having kids) it’s now coming into the semi-near future.

Friday night a nasty storm blew through my hometown. I laid next to James in our camper watching the lightning get closer and closer. Suddenly, the wind picked up and I wondered out loud if we were safer in the camper or in the Suburban. James answered me with a grunt and snore. So I stared out the window watching the tall spindly pine trees the occupy our future backyard bend back and forth waiting for one of them to crack under the pressure.

I have always been equally fascinated and horrified of severe storms. When I was young, my dad would listen to the weather statements on the radio in the bathroom. (what? you didn’t have a radio in your bathroom? dude, you missed out on lip synching to bad 80’s music in the mirror.) He would pace up and down the hallway looking out the windows until the storms had finally passed. Even if they were just your garden variety thunderstorm I would sneak into my parents’ bedroom and crawl into bed with them. As I got older I would sleep on the floor without bothering to wake them.

The summer I moved to Delaware I lived through the aftermath of several hurricanes. Then, the next summer I was in Dallas, Texas. Dallas weather makes weather in Delaware and Minnesota look like child’s play. When I lived in Dallas I worked for a large satellite radio network run by a mouse whose balls are safely kept under Goofy’s hat. I had a full time job there during the week, but on Friday nights I would go back in to help with production of a morning show’s weekend show. (this is hard without naming names)

ANYWAY! Once I had to go into work and there was a tornado warning out for our area. My sister, who was my roommate and co-worker, told me that I should be fine and to just get my ass into work or there would be a lot of pissed off affiliates. OK, she might not have said all of that, most of it was the nagging voice in my head.

So, I drove to work. The entire time it felt like the wind was picking up the little Mazda I had toot tooted my way around the Metroplex. Surrounded my rednecks in pickup trucks with their windows down “woo hoo”ing and waiting to be taken to the Wizard.

A work the power would go out and the satellite feed was totally messed up. My bosses, who loved me so, came in to keep my company as we sat through another airing of both weekend shows to make sure it all went out right.

Sometimes I miss Dallas. Not for the storms, but for the friends I made.

*weep*

I freakin’ forgot what this post was going to be about. I took three left turns back there. Back to Friday night. I didn’t flip out. I had taken a couple of Advil PM and it took me off to dream land where I don’t remember any dreams I had because the sleep was *that* good.

The next morning my brother came over to help up construct our future basement. The neighbors stopped by to offer us their extra bedrooms if the weather ever got bad again. My brother told us how a huge pine tree had blown down by an apartment building down the road. The pine tree that they used to decorate with blue lights for Christmas has blown into the apartment building, littering the balconies of the tenants.

Another left turn … I love Christmas lights.

• …. diggin' a hole.http://twitpic.com/bx4tb Plus, his helper, looks like Brad Pitt with his head shaved all fuzzy-like. #
• Digging out an old foundation to put a new house up where an old one was. Now they're knocking down trees for septic. Smells like xmas. #
• Left Brad Pitt to get home for Abby's 4th Birthday! Growing up too fast. #
• Waiting on my husband to finish work. Abbys bday isnt so happy right now. #
• Trying to keep my temper in check. James FINALLY showed. Has to go back to work tho. #
• I am thankful he's still working. So hard to make kids understand that he has no choice. #

• . @MckMama Keeping Stellan in my thoughts and prayers. #

• RT I believe in the power of moms on the Internet. Please RT & ask readers to send prayers/ thoughts to Stellan/ @mckmama RIGHT NOW. #

• …stayed up way past my bedtime. giving up for the night. must sleep. at least i am back in my own bed. 1 kid stayed back with g-ma. #
• going to the lake to hang with my dad tomorrow. gonna say f-u to the world and wear a fuckin' swimsuit. if you see my ugly scar, so be it. #
• one day i might muster up the courage to show the world what happened this winter, but i still cringe every time i look in the mirror. #
• Oh yeah, I am supposed to be sleeping. James keeps waking up and looking at me. Poor guy. I am a mean wife. #