All I Want for Christmas...

Well, we finally broke down. After all the babies and storing excess breast milk in freezers all over the city of Houston, we purchased a freezer. Just what I always wanted...to spend $700 on a freezer after all our recent medical bills (right now totaling a mere $6000, and counting since we are still waiting on Squirt's second surgery bill and doctor bill. Kids are expensive!)

While I know having a huge stand alone freezer is going to come in handy once the Baby Hulk and No David start really eating, I hated breaking down and buying the freezer right now. But it was a necessary purchase. I already have milk stored in my neighbor's freezer and was about to start making the drive to Kingwood when both my parents informed me that they didn't trust any of the three freezers I have used in the past to store milk.

So with our freezer on the fridge/freezer combo in the kitchen completely full by Saturday, Lance finally went to Conn's. Then came the news that it would not arrive until Thursday. FABULOUS. Can you say pump and dump? Cause that's exactly what I had to do every day. At least 30 ounces went down the drain every day starting Sunday.

And I didn't even get to get drunk or take Xanax during this time because, well, I had to take care of five kids and being hungover just wouldn't have worked. So I have dumped my milk from all week long. And I'm kind of sad about that.

I have now stored 38 bags of milk, which takes up the entire top shelf of new freezer. Once this freezer fills up, I'm selling my milk. YUP. That's right. Not donating, selling. If I donate, they turn around and sell it, so why not me? Yes, I know the milk banks have to runs tests and such, but guess what? I have to pay for the pump, I have to pay to store it and it's my freaking time and I have five kids to put through college. Wouldn't that be awesome to actually pay for college by selling breast milk? I've checked it out...it sells for up to $3 per ounce. Of course, to make that money, I think you have to sell to the fetish guys who like breast milk. I talked to Lance, and we both agreed that if it comes down to selling excess milk, we have standards. We're not selling to freaks.

Mom Gone Wild

I may have traded in my obsession for buying books for our children's library to something completely different. Girl's clothing. To be exact clothing sized 3 -6 months. I literally can't stop myself. I went to the Galleria today with four kids just to pick up some tights and ended up with four more outfits. I just bought three outfits the other day. Then Stacy picked up something for me Saturday and bought four more herself. Then there was the shopping spree my dad went on two weeks ago.

I actually thought to myself, I hope Chelsea has a baby girl because I have all this clothing she can use. What??? Of every female in my life, why I decided Chelsea at 20 years old was the one who needed these adorable hand me downs is beyond me. So, no Chelsea, just wait and I'll get you all new stuff. I promise.

To prove to myself that I'm not a clothes hound, I added three books to my Amazon cart. I need to go through my list before I order and make sure I don't need anything else before Lent starts. That could be a disaster as well as an argument since Lance doesn't like when I order books before big liturgical seasons. It doesn't seem to work out for our checking account.

Weekend Thoughts

Random thoughts and weekend plans

I power watched almost all the Oscar contenders, then fell flat. I've made it through one Documentary. Kind of, enough to say I hope it doesn't win. I have one week left to finish up.

Just now realizing that I won't be watching the Oscars with Paul and Brian.

Gave my kids fish sticks from the freezer section for dinner tonight. I felt like it was the 70's. My young boys wondered what was on their plate. Squirt had the sense to appreciate the meal.

Bad week for me and the Baby Hulk. I had planned to take him to the symphony tomorrow, but am graciously allowing my dad to take him without me. It's not that I don't trust my dad or mom, I just honestly hate for my kids to be away from me. I am kind of psycho like that. MAYBE that is why I'm having such a hard time with BH this week. I think we need some space. I say this with a really heavy heart because he is truly the sweetest boy ever, but him being away from me for a few hours is a really good thing. Especially since during those few hours Lance will be gone.

I sometimes ask my kids why they are crying. Their response is usually, "I don't know." Even Squirt has taken several years to tell me exactly why he is crying. (Not that he has screaming crying fits anymore!) Today when No David was screaming hysterically, I asked him expecting the same response. Nope, he stopped crying, pointed at Lance and said "Daddy put me to bed." Glad he was clear on that.

Taking my girl on a shopping spree tomorrow. The joy of girls!

Tomorrow night: dinner at Reef with Travis Rodgers and the wife. Excited to meet her.

Lance finally bought me tickets to the Old 97's! Cannot wait. Super excited to see one of my favorite bands and Internet friends.

I want to lose 10 pounds in two weeks. Seeing that I lost ONE pound in ONE week, I don't think that's going to happen, but I can dream, right? What does Lance do: bring home cupcakes. He knew I was having a hard time with the BH. I didn't want to make him feel bad, so I immediately ate two cupcakes.

I got a call from a friend at Goose's school today. Her daughter has lice. Turns out the kid who had it two weeks ago passed it around. It's not dangerous, but lice just sounds GROSS. Never had it as a kid, don't want it. And selfishly, all I can think is: I have five kids, four who end up in my room at various times during the week. I can't get lice. My hair is way too thick to have lice. I have this image of getting lice and having to shave off my hair to get rid of it. Every time my head itched today, I was convinced I had it. I came home, made Lance promise not to even joke about it and search my head. Anybody scratch their head while reading this?

Tuesday night four different children woke me up. No David cried because he didn't feel well and finally came to sleep at the foot of my bed at midnight. The Baby Hulk arrived around 1 am to tell me he needed to use the restroom. Thankfully, he went back to his bed. Baby Z had her usual feedings during the night. Then Goose came in around 5 in the morning to sleep with us. Lance left that morning assuring me that we would never get pregnant again. I think he might be right.

Guilty Pleasures

I was super excited to be invited to post an entry on any show not covered over at ApeDonkey. They do reviews of every great show, some I don't have the time to watch. The blog is awesome, and I'm constantly checking for updates.

Here's the problem, nobody needs a review of 90210. And I'm not talking about the "New" 90210. I'm talking Brenda, Dylan and Kelly, Donna Martin graduates and David Silver's dance moves.

The DVR in the bedroom is classified as mine. I can't tell you how many episodes I have saved on it. It's slightly embarrassing. And I have my favorites...anything with Kelly and Dylan.

So we all have them, things we hate to admit liking. Despite a huge dislike for pop music, I found myself downloading a Rihanna song a couple of weeks ago. I actually paid for a Rihanna song!! And she's fine, but you wouldn't hear her on channel 54. I am so embarrassed that I won't listen to it in the car with Squirt.

As for movies, Bring It On has to be my top film. I have the lines memorized. And Grease 2. Lance loves it too, but for reasons much different than me. Something to do with Michelle Pfeiffer and Cool Rider.

Change of Plans

Today is the perfect example of how regimented and cheap I am. I have been working on flexibility for years. You would think with children flexibility is a must. You would think I would have learned this lesson at this point in my life. But here I am stewing because my plans for the day are not going to happen.

And as I am sitting here, I am thinking of things I won't be able to do tomorrow either. The first week of February is so rich with things to do for the kids. In the Church, we have the Feast of St. Brigid, Candlemass, and the Feast of St. Blase. Then there is Groundhog Day, Chinese New Year and the start of a new month. And I want to do it ALL.

And not in just a checklist kind of way.

I had plans for yesterday, today and tomorrow. Not to mention swim lessons that I've already paid for the month. Do you know how hard it was for me to cancel today? I admit, I can be cheap. But Lance reminded me exactly how cold it is today and that swimming isn't really a good idea. So out went our plans for taking our candles to the church to be blessed, swim lessons, the library and Chinese New Year at Goose's school. (Thankfully, my plans for the gym were intact, I don't think I could have handled today otherwise.)

Instead, we're baking cookies for Squirt who is in surgery right now, we'll light his special candle for the year tonight and Lance will bless our candles, we'll have soup and be together. I know in my heart that that will be better than anything I had planned. It only took me four hours to get over not having the day go exactly as I planned.

The Check Is In the Mail

I received the bill for having Baby Z less than two weeks ago and the hospital has called twice asking where the payment is. Seriously, don't these people have anything better to do? And while today is the day I pay bills, (yes, I actually still write checks) I am tempted to set this bill aside just because they pissed me off. I am paying the entire amount at once in cash so they can back off until the actual due date stated on the bill.

I Don't Date My Patients

The nominations for the Oscars were announced Tuesday morning, and I can rest easy knowing that nobody as bad as Sandra Bullock will win an Oscar this year. It still drives me crazy knowing that she won last year. And while I'm sure she's nice, and I admit to liking her in Crash and While You Were Sleeping, she so didn't deserve an Oscar for that POS she did last year. It was almost as bad as Julia Roberts beating Ellen Burstyn years ago.

For whatever reason we STILL haven't made it to The King's Speech. I'm going to assume I'll love it and Colin Firth, and so I can safely say that my biggest problem is that Ryan Gosling wasn't nominated. He is so damn good.

Baby Z is six weeks today which meant two things for me. First, I got to see my OB on Wednesday, and second, I am back in business at the gym. I honestly don't know which one I was looking forward to more. With such high hopes for both, there had to be some disappointment and there was. On Wednesday, despite being so excited to see me, my doctor didn't take the bait when I said we should make plans to get together. I know, it was a bold move on my part, but she sounded a bit sad when she stated how we won't see each other for another year. Dinner plans only made sense to me. She even bought Baby Z a gift. How many babies do I need to have before I strike a real friendship here???

Then there was the gym, I went back today ready for Body Pump. I got sidetracked visiting Lance at Nick's Place so I decided I would catch a later class. Only they cancelled the class. Then as I was reactivating my membership, I got charged 12 bucks to cover the rest of the month. Four freaking days! Now I am annoyed that I didn't just go on Monday. Although they probably would have charged me for one day. Regardless, I managed 3.5 miles before quitting. Not bad after six weeks off, I think.

And while I have been really missing Chelsea lately, especially since she has been a baking queen, I guess it's a good thing she doesn't live close by while I'm trying to shed the rest of this baby weight. Let those 20 year old co-eds gain the weight. But for my birthday, I want something really good.

It would appear that Lance and I will be making a visit to Goose's school next week. It seems some classmate is picking on him. To be honest, I'm not a fan of this kid, he is THE KID everyone wants to be friends with and is already a jerk, if you can call a 6 year old a jerk. And I can since that kid is picking on my kid. I am hoping that Lance can take care of this before I have to go Nicki Grant on the kid.

I managed to survive Lance's trip without getting in a bad mood or yelling at the kids. Even when I got upset, I held it together. Now to behave like that all the time...I am very happy he's home though and can't wait to see what he does to thank me for letting him go out of town so soon after Baby Z was born.

XM Radio Sucks

A few months ago, I wrote about XM Radio and how they steal your money. I was really frustrated, but not too worried about the 305$ that they charged to our credit card without my consent. I had faith that our credit card company would deal with them, and I'd have my money back soon enough.

Isn't there something about only having faith in God? Well, I'm not sure even God could get money back from the POS known as XM Radio. Today, I received a letter from our credit card company informing me that while they will still fight for us, they have yet to resolve this matter. XM has sent in information stating that we never cancelled service in the MANY calls we made. What liars. How do they train these people. Never once did I tell them I wanted to continue service. It didn't even work in my car! In fact, I was more than clear that if using their service would save my life, I would rather die. Lance was clear. But it doesn't matter because we are still effed. (Do I really have to start curbing my cussing just because Squirt has finally figured out that I have a blog? Shouldn't he be learning in school rather than reading my blog there?!)

With Lance gone, I was sure Baby Z's constant need to be held or No David's constant need for food would do me in. Nope, it's a letter that has taken me over the edge. I have to rethink strategy. They will not get my money. And while I am at it, I will try and get anyone I can to cancel their service too.

Higher Learning?

Heard in my house: "I brang a bag to school."

Me: "what?!!!"

Other person: "isn't it brung?"

Really? I was almost too embarrassed to type this, but then I wasn't the one saying it.

What More Can Happen

Monday a glass bottle broke as I was trying to get out the door. I stayed calm.

Tuesday, we discovered the dog was gone as we were trying to leave. We finally had to leave to get the kids the school. We last saw her in front of psycho lady's house.

This morning, some guy hit me with his Honda accord. No damage to my car, some to his. Happened a block away from school, major language problems.

Nothing Says Christmas Like Darth Vadar?

I love Star Wars. The original three. I can even handle the Ewoks. Empire Strikes Back is a movie I can watch over and over again. The news that Empire Strikes Back is going into the National Film Registry made me happy.

It also reminded me of all the Star Wars Ornaments I have in the attic. Long ago in another lifetime, I dated a guy who loved Star Wars. In fact, Lance is the only person I ever dated that didn't like Star Wars at all. We used to decorate a tree and bought Star Wars ornaments every year. When Lance and I got married, he saw them and decided they weren't going on his tree. He didn't see the correlation between Darth Vadar and Christmas. After we had been married a year, I got an email from the old boyfriend asking about the ornaments. He wanted some of them since he had purchased some of them. To be clear, they were gifts to me, and not really something that you would split after a breakup. It's not like we lived together and purchased the stuff together. I couldn't believe he had the nerve to ask for the ornaments. I thought it slightly petty and ignored his email after telling everyone about it. Years later, I wish I knew where he was so I could get rid of the box of ornaments taking up space in my attic.

Get Moving Now

Disclaimer: This post is of no interest to men. I promise. And I warned you.

When it comes to my weight, I'm vain. I admit it. With the normal size of my chest, I've always had to be skinnier because my chest made me look bigger than I really am. I've always been one of those "I just need to lose five pounds" kind of girls. Then I became that women, then I hit my 30's, and I loved my body. It was a perfect size for me. Then I got pregnant and gained over 60 pounds. I lost the weight, but wasn't where I wanted to be. So then I got pregnant with the Baby Hulk and decided I would try and pump breastmilk to lose weight. The fact that it helped my NICU baby at the time was a bonus. But really, it was a pain and the only reason I continued was the rapid weight loss I experienced. And when I had No David, it was the same way. I could eat whatever I wanted, pump a ridiculous amount of milk, dump whatever milk might be tainted with alcohol and be skinny and have food for my baby.

I don't particularly enjoy pumping milk, but I could never bring myself to actually breastfeed despite all of my friends doing it and loving it. Live with this chest your whole life and see if you want a baby hanging on it for even one second. So vain me pumped so much milk that I lost a ton of weight, could workout and keep it off and eat whatever I wanted. I assumed it would be this way again.

What a bad assumption. And here is the annoying part of me...it's day four and despite giving birth to a seven pound baby, a placenta and starting to pump, I've lost five pounds. WTH? Yes, I am already stressed and Lance had the nerve to say it was because I ate a bunch of cupcakes at the hospital. So not the thing to tell me. Then he said I should eat like he does for QWL, and I would see results. (Not that he was saying I wasn't losing weight fast enough, he just didn't want to hear me complain.)

I am pumping and engorged. I've pumped two days and am not making a dent. Did turning 40 really make the difference in milk supply and weight loss? Okay, it's only day four, but still....I am more than frustrated right now. To make matters worse, I am now having to call the creepy lactation consultants for help. Here's a thought to make more women want to breastfeed, (because despite the fact that everyone I know does it, the overall numbers are super low), find consultants that aren't creepy. Is it a job requirement to be a creepy 50 to 60 year old woman? I have searched for answers online to no avail and if things don't get better in a few days, because right now the pain level from being engorged makes me feel nothing from my C-section, I will be calling them for help.

I am waiting for any sign that things are going to be normal as far as recovery goes...night sweats- I have none, milk- it would appear I have nothing but boobs bigger than your worst national geographic image, at least 12 pounds weight loss in week one? Anything would be nice.

So maybe I'm freaking out a bit early, but like I said I am super vain about weight. Plus, my chest really needs some relief in the form of milk release! So I am now praying asking for relief. I would have never predicted that prayer would come from my lips!

Thumbs Up For Prelit Trees

Now that I know everyone agrees we need a fake-prelit tree, can someone come over here and explain this to my kids? Don't feel too guilty when they start talking about tradition either.

Joy Thieves, Not In My House

I am one of those people that sweats the small stuff. This morning, I woke up and immediately noticed that the trash was still inside despite multiple reminders from me last night about trash day. While I know that I shouldn't get annoyed about the trash, I can easily justify my feelings. It becomes another thing for me to do in the rush to get out the door in the morning. I can't leave it until later because the trash never comes at the same time each week.

Last night, I promised I wouldn't let anything bother me today. It gets tiring letting every little thing bother me. For me and my family. Today, Lance and I had planned the perfect date. One last day for the two of us before we become a family of seven. I read something about not letting anyone steal your joy. I like how it sounds. Nothing earth shattering, basically you can't control anyone but yourself. I know this, but still I lose my cool. Way too often. So now we're trying this tactic. I will remain joyful despite the teenager who overslept this morning. Despite the four year old who takes 13 minutes to get dressed every morning. It kind of worked, I still got a bit mad when I had to trek Goose all the way to class so he wouldn't be late because of the two slugs this morning.

When the kids screamed at the babysitter for ten minutes straight, I ignored it. I felt bad with them clawing all over me, but I was singing to myself "you're not going to steal my joy". It might be a fault of mine, but I knew the second I opened my mouth, I would lose it. I don't mind crying, but fussy, whiny screams via the Baby Hulk drive me insane. I can try to be comforting, but the kids only go into overdrive. I might look like a cold hearted mother, but in this situation, nothing works for them. They do this crap to my mom half the time, it's just how they act with a babysitter.

I left for my perfect date with Lance happy because I didn't lose it. I felt bad for the boys being upset, but knew they were in good hands and that Lance and I really needed this time alone. We take more solo trips than most people, but other than that, we don't do a lot without the kids mostly due to me. Both Lance and I needed time to talk without kids around and prepare ourselves for this Friday. And the date was even better because we didn't have to talk about how sorry we were for losing our cool.

Later when Goose refused to work on his project assigned last Friday and due tomorrow, I didn't get upset. It would appear his public speaking skills are like mine in that they stink. It would also appear that he should have started working on this over the weekend. But I didn't get mad at him or Lance (who was in charge of the project). It's not my grade, so I chose not to let my joy be stolen.

Lance has been calling the kids "joy thieves" all day. He's mostly kidding. I am hoping that I stay resolved on not letting anyone steal my joy. I know I'll be much happier as will my family.

Decisions, Decisions...

The newest Zierlein is arriving in less than nine days and I, I mean WE, have no name yet. Well, there is a middle name, but no first. We sort of had a first name picked out, but you had to say it with somewhat of an accent, meaning most white people would get it wrong. Since that includes half my family, and if you ask Lance me too, (since Kingwood Mexicans that DON'T speak Spanish don't count), I would constantly be annoyed when people pronounced it wrong. I suppose I could handle some people getting it wrong, but you can imagine how annoyed I'd be when family didn't say it properly. Lance threw that name by the side and found another okay name. It's fine, it's a saint, but I only "like" it. Don't love it all. So we're stuck. The names that I love, he hates. So here we are again...It happened this way with No David, and Lance found the perfect name as I lay on the table seconds before my section. Why is this hard???

Second hardest? Picking a Godparent. I am by no means the best Catholic, so very far from it, BUT is it too much to ask that my Godparents go to Confession, attend Mass weekly and Holy Days? Even my brother who gets annoyed with religious people agrees with me on this one. Lance is leaving the decision to me. He doesn't care, says the whole thing feels like high school to him. I completely understand why he feels that way. We have picked wonderful people as Godparents. They are really great people, just not great or even good Godparents. They love our kids, but it's not about being a Godparent, but rather being in their life by virtue of their relationship with us. I know in reality our Godparent isn't going to do a lot as far as my child's religious upbringing, but I do want someone who loves the church like we do. That cares about what the church teaches without immediately tossing it aside. Like I said, I'm no saint, but I do try and I love my church. I just want the same from my Godparents.

FB Stops Child Abuse?

Okay, if you read my blog, you know I'm somewhat of a bitch. Here goes another...please explain how changing your profile on FB is going to help stop child abuse? I almost didn't want to write this b/c I am now basically talking about my FB friends who all changed their profiles. I kind of think donating time or money to an abuse or outreach center would make more of difference. But then again, that might just be the social liberal in me.

SPEAKING of being a social liberal....I was so proud of my boys the other day. I donated a coat to a homeless man (yes, dad, the boys were in the car) the other night. They were so upset about this man not having a home. Their solution: take him breakfast the next morning.

LOL

Can I say how much I hate the use of LOL? Especially from the younger generation. "I have to take a test, LOL." Am I missing something? Why would you need to take write LOL after that statement. "Totally sucks" might work better in that situation. The use of LOL on Facebook makes me want to stop cyber-stalking even more than people's political updates.

More Thieves

We leave for New Orleans without a freaking money card because someone stole our check card info and charged about $800 worth of stuff in Pennsylvania. Freaking fabulous. The best was the charge for $134 at a fast food joint. Really? Thanks a lot, assholes. As if dealing with XM wasn't enough to stress me out.

Am I going to need a Label for Theft soon?

XM Radio=Thieves

I am so freaking over XM radio I could scream. I so want to lose it with the customer service people, but what good does it do when all they have to do is accidentally hang up on you mid-scream. Then you get to wait another ten minutes on hold before actually speaking to yet another moron. Ten minutes on a good day. We bought the Escalade about five months ago and it came with a free trial of XM. We were already planning to transfer the service from our previous vehicle, but something didn't work right in our car. XM said it was the wiring, and since I have yet to find time to take out three car seats and get to the dealership, I had pretty much given up on having XM in my car.

Then the assholes decided to charge my credit card for three years service without my knowledge or consent. WTF? I called and they said it would be taken care of. That was over a month ago. The second time we called, we were told it would be ten business days. Last Thursday, they were going to expedite things so that it would be fixed within twenty-four hours. Of course, during all of these conversations, they tried to throw in several deals to keep our money. Do I have the money back on my credit card? Of course, not!

I am so over it. I love, love, love channels 54 and 47, but no more. I will listen to the same songs over and over from my IPOD before getting XM again.

Batteries Not Included

I just went through Goose's room and closet to clean things out. Even though I have done no shopping for Christmas and his gifts from me will probably end up along the bookshelves, I assume he will be getting some toys from the grandparents.

Here is what we are donating: anything that requires a battery that did not come in the box. And that means, basically all the gifts from last Christmas that have never been used. Now this is not a commentary on the gift givers, but instead us. But here is the simple fact: if you buy a gift for my child that requires a battery, please provide it for me. I will soon have five kids, yes, I am pulling out that card, and while life is busy is for all of us, I can assure you that we will be donating more of the same, unused gifts next year if you don't include a battery. Just ask Squirt, he is still waiting on a battery for a cool $80 road racer of sorts that sits in his closet to this day. Sometimes I think he keeps it to remind us of what schmucks we are when it comes to stuff like this.