Dirty Fighting

This was to be the rubber match, the third and final bout between the Palooka and the Southpaw. Southpaw was young, but had more experience in the ring. He was pound for pound the best fighter in his weight class. Palooka on the other hand was old, out of shape, and inexperienced. A brawler, Palooka was determined to lose the stigma of having a glass chin.

All ready to throw in the towel, Palooka got lucky in the first fight with Southpaw. Prone to Pitty-Pat Punches, Palooka was no match for Southpaw. On the ropes, looking as though the fight would be over in minutes, Palooka got a sudden opening. An uppercut was thrown and a connection was made. Southpaw was thrown back, it was a knockout! The crowd went wild and many believed that Southpaw took a dive.

Set on proving the public wrong, Southpaw scheduled a rematch. The bell rang and Palooka came out swinging. A jab was thrown, Southpaw feinted to the right and threw a counterpunch. Palooka was down for the count!

The score was now one to one. Palooka refused to back down to the obviously better fighter. A final match needed to be fought.

Both fighters were going for the win. Both were bound and determined to be victorious. Neither boxer would allow the winner to be determined, the opponent would have to be KO'd. They knew that meant they might have to go the distance. It was sure to be a Barnburner fight.

Southpaw and Palooka met in the middle of the ring. Dodging and weaving, throwing jab after jab, uppercut after uppercut. Palooka threw a Haymaker. There was a loud SNAP! A thunderous roar of pain was heard. The boxer fell and was now kissing the canvas.

But it wasn't Southpaw, it was Palooka! A victim of a sucker punch? Palooka was now laughing hysterically. The force of the punch thrown had snapped her Victoria Secret's Underwire Bra in half. She was KTFO'D by the impact of the break.

But wait, Southpaw was down too! The hilarity of the situation rendered him punch-drunk.

"Mom.are.you.okay?" He managed to say in between each chuckle, howl, and snort.

"Yes, W. I think I'll live," I replied while wiping tears from my eyes. "Please turn off the Wii while mama gets an ice pack and changes her bra!"

*In case you need some help on the terminology.

It's A Carnival!

Hooray! It's another Carnival hosted by Shannon at Bloggy Giveaways! This is your chance to win lots and lots of great stuff. After you enter my giveaway, by leaving a comment to this post, swing by her blog. There you will see tons of links to other giveaways that are being hosted by some pretty terrific bloggers.

Have I piqued your interest? Do you want to know what I have waiting for three, that's right THREE lucky winners? Drum roll please........I will choose three *people, at random, to receive a $25.00 Gift Certificate to my Doodle Kids® Stationery Store!

Doodle Kids® are cute little characters that can be customized to reflect just about any personality. There are different skin tones, hairstyles, and add-ons that will help make each of your Doodle Kids® special.

You can use your Gift Certificate to purchase personalized Notes, Invitations, Notepads, Address Labels, and more. Stop by the store and take a look around ~ You'll Love The Charm Of The Doodle Kids®!

Good Luck and Have Fun!

*You do not need to have a blog to enter. Just type your email address in your comment so I can contact you, should you win. The contest will be closed on Friday, February 1st, at midnight est. The winners will be chosen over the weekend.

A Needle In A Haystack

A while back I told you that my MIL needed to sell her house because, well, basically it's falling down around her. She has decades of junk just plain crap memories piled heaped filled up in that house - all the way to the brim. I think it's actually holding the house together. Anyway, Mr. Schmitty and his siblings have been working really hard at clearing everything out so they can get the house on the market.

My cousin owns a company that provides dumpsters and has given us one to keep at her house for as long as we need it. It allows everyone to work on the task at hand, without worrying that the dumpster is costing money. Mostly everything that needed to go, has been tossed in that dumpster. And YES, the house is still standing. Hallelujah!

My cousin came by on Sunday and picked up the loaded down dumpster. Good-bye was the hide-a-bed couch my MIL swore she was going to reupholster since Mr. Schmitty was a tot. Gone were the million and one paint cans my FIL held on to, in every color of the rainbow. The lot was being sent to it's final resting place at the local dump.

The telephone rang about an hour later. Mr. Schmitty answered the call. It was my MIL. She was in a panic.

"I need you to pick me up."

"What do you need?" Mr. Schmitty asked, "What's wrong?"

"I need you to take me to the dump, I think my glasses got mixed up in everything and went into the dumpster!" she replied.

"That dumpster has been unloaded already. You'd never be able to find them in there anyway!"

"Well, he only left with it an hour ago, even if it was dumped, they'd probably be right on top!"

God Bless her. Panic does get the best of that woman.

What Being Married 15 Years Feels Like

We are pathetic. Mr. Schmitty and I are pathetic with a capital P.

P-A-T-H-E-T-I-C.

Yesterday my MIL and SIL came over to babysit T. and R. while W. was in school. T. asked why they were coming to babysit and told them that I was going out with my boyfriend on a date. He grinned and said, "That's daddy, right?" Then he ran off and told Mr. Schmitty that he had to open my car door for me on our date. He also asked if I was going to wear my wedding dress.

No sweet child, mama couldn't get that thing on even if she used a crowbar.

So off we went on our little date. Mr. Schmitty did indeed hold every door for me. The dear. We decided to have some lunch so we went to a diner that we love. We sat in a booth and for once had all the elbow room we needed. Aaahhh, the glory! No crayons, no booster seats, no kid's menus! We ordered from the adult menus and then we looked at each other.

Crickets, birds chirping, silence.

We laughed.

Our waitress brought our lunch and then we proceeded to scarf down our food. After almost 10 years of eating with children you get into the habit of inhaling your food. You just never know when you'll have to yell for the check.

Okay, so that used up about 45 minutes. Now what? Where to go? What to do? We had nuthin'.

We resorted to our old schtick of, "Whatcha wanna do?" for a few minutes.

That wasted another 5 minutes.

"Blah, this sucks, you know?" I said.

"We could go to a motel!" Mr. Schmitty replied.

"We could take a NAP!" we chimed in together as we burst out laughing.

So we did what any old married couple does. We went shopping for shoes for Mr. Schmitty. He bought a really nice pair of work boots. It's his birthday today so when he pulled out his credit card I patted him on the back and shouted, "Happy Birthday!!"

I'm telling, you we are just SUCH the romantic couple!

The kid at the register took the credit card. He then said to Mr. Schmitty, "Nice boots, plan on going hiking?"

My husband and I looked at each other and raised our eyebrows. Apparently this kid didn't realize how old and out of shape we are.

"Ummmm....no, not really."

The kid raised his eyebrows as if to say, "Then why the hell are you buying hiking boots!"

I just about split a gut.

He handed Mr. Schmitty his credit card and the bag and said, "Enjoy your kicks."

WTF?

I think Mr. Schmitty should have said, "You bet!" And then he should have done this:

Things That Make You Go...Hmmmmm

I just noticed something I do to my son. I didn't realize I did this until today. It's one of those things that will eventually come back to bite me in the arse.

W. is 9. Technically he is 9 years and 7 months. This being said, I'm wondering, do you do this too? Do you sometimes refer to your child's actual age and other times add a year? Let me clarify this with an example.

W.: "Mom, I don't waaaaannnnnnaaaa take a shower!!"

Me: "Please stop whining, you are going to be 10 years old!"

W.: "Mom, can I get a cell phone?"

Me: "Why do you need a cell phone? You are only 9!"

See what I mean?

I use the span of a few months to twist my responses to him in a way that will work for ME. He can't possibly ever win, can he?

I know it sounds like total manipulation of my child. You are probably right and Dr. Phil would be ripping me a new one if he read this. But I look at it this way, in a few years he'll catch on. He'll be working me instead.

Me: "W., call me when you get there and be home early."

W.: "Oh Mom! I'm not a little kid, I'm almost 15!"

Me: "W., if you want some extra spending money, maybe you should get a job?"

W.: "A JOB? I'm only 14, I'm just a kid! I don't need a job yet!"

Seeking Absolution

I have no excuse. None whatsoever. I was all my fault. I completely and utterly forgot. It is unjustifiable and reprehensible. It was just plain WRONG.

I was out Friday evening, gallivanting with a girl friend. I joined her for a movie. We gorged on popcorn and diet sodas. We had the audacity to laugh and enjoy ourselves. And our fun didn't end at the closing credits. Oh No! We continued on our merry way, I, not once remembering the day and what it meant. The degradation and humiliation I would feel upon realizing my err. Oh the shame of it all!

We shopped at a local bookstore. I searched for books and magazines that I would take pleasure in reading, all the while selfishly thinking of only myself. How dare I? As life only revolved around my happiness. There I stood, leisurely browsing the racks, all the while sipping on a hot chocolate. And it was topped with whipped cream. WHIPPED.CREAM! Satan's drink, I tell you. The sheer gluttony of it all makes me bow my head in self-reproach.

I returned home. A smile was plastered on my face, I'm sure, as I basked in my own self-indulgent euphoria. I prepared for bed and slipped beneath the sheets a few minutes after midnight. The day had ended, the time had passed. The moment was gone, forever. It was a point of no return. Eternally lost.

Another day was cast aside, still I had no idea of what I had done. No recollection of what had come and gone. And then today, in an instant, I felt my lungs deflate. It was as though I had taken a blow to my stomach. How could this be? How could I be so self-absorbed?

Can I be forgiven? Is it possible? I am so truly sorry and understand if I am not given mercy. I do not deserve any.

I extend this rose as an atonement for my thoughtlessness. I know it can not completely vindicate my actions, but I hope someday I can make amends. Only time will tell.

Happy 1 Year Blogiversary My Dear Blog!
It's A Schmitty Life
Est. January 4, 2007

Happy New Year!

How was every one's first day of 2008? I hope your year is starting off well. The Schmitty house was finally put back together after the holiday festivities. The trees are down (we have our regular tree and a small one for the kids), the ornaments and decorations are packed away, the Christmas dishes are covered in bubble wrap and put away, the new toys have been added to the playroom, the house has been dusted and vacuumed, and I even cleaned out the refrigerator. And thank goodness I did because I found some leftover shrimp scampi from Christmas Eve. Imagine me when I opened that Tupperware container! WHOA NELLIE!

Don't you love how the house looks so shiny and new when all of the decorations are down? It's so nice, well until the kids come through like the tornadoes they are.

So, the big question. How many of you have made a list? You know, of all of your New Year's resolutions. I, honestly, did not make a list this year. Yes, I know, the QUEEN of lists did.NOT.make a list?! The horror! But I figured why make a list? I feel like a failure if I don't follow it. So instead I have decided to just improve my life in ways that need improving. I will do my best to make better what I would like better. I can't go wrong there, can I?