Who Wants To Lose Some Weight?

I certainly do! So I've got something going on with my friend Karly over at Wiping Up Snot. And we want YOU to join us!

It all began when we both made the decision to attend BlogHer 2009. Neither of us have ever been to a BlogHer conference. After reading countless posts and watching all of those videos, from hundreds of women, we became determined and vowed not to miss the next one.

After all, there is booze and well, booze....and Mama needs a vacation!

Somehow the subject of weight loss came up during our conversations of the next BlogHer. We both acknowledged that we needed to drop some poundage. BlogHer is kind of like going to a class reunion or a wedding, no!? You gotta look your best because you never know, you could be sitting buck naked across from these hot mommys!

So, Our BlubHer Overhaul was born. This new blog is a support group for anyone who needs a little help keeping on track. It was set up to share our quest with other bloggers that want to look hawt next year too. Though, don't worry, you don't have to be attending BlogHer, that's just our goal date. Anyone who wants to shed some weight and could use some buddies to lean on, please, jump right on board. We need all the support we can get!

If you are interested, please read how to become a Participant. Our official start date is September 8th, 2008. You know on a Monday, after a holiday that will probably be filled with lots of barbecued foods and beer. No need to start before then, am I right?

It's easy to join and there are no strings attached, no obligations, no expectations. Quite simply it is a place where you can blog daily, weekly, or even monthly about your diet menus, your exercise plan, your advice, information, links, funny stories, accomplishments, or just your thoughts about the whole weight loss process. It will be like our own coffee clutch, well without the coffee. Maybe celery, how about our own celery clutch? Really, stop by and take a look and find out how you can join us, we'd love to have you!

While you are there, whether you are participating or not, please grab our button for your blog. It will help spread the word and show your support for Our BlubHer Overhaul!

Out of the loop? I didn't even know there was a loop.

I was so busy the other day trying to find out how to get on Alltop. My persistence and this blog post helped me achieve my goal. Yeah Me.

As I spent all my time refreshing my browser on the moms list, waiting for my blog to miraculously appear, I missed another blogging community phenomenon. I'm always so far behind the times. SO last year on everything. It's been that way since I was a teenager. I was the one wearing the latest trend, 6 months after everyone else, because I had to wait until my birthday or Christmas to get my pair of Jordache Jeans or Nike Sneakers.

But I digress.

Now, I'm sure you all know about the current contest that is sweeping across the blogosphere. You've probably already cast your votes, one male and one female. You may even be a nominee. But in case you are as clueless as me, I'm talking about the Hot Blogger Calendar contest, hosted by Jane Porricelli and Sarah Morgan.

But alas, this post will not beg you for your vote. I will not tempt you with lingerie (I already tried that for the Blogger's Choice Awards. Looky at my side bar. See how well that's gone for me?), I won't give you 12 good reasons (or 5 or even 1), and I will not take off pieces of clothing for every 10 votes you cast.

And do you know why? BECAUSE.I.WASN'T.EVEN.NOMINATED! Le sigh. I guess cartoon character faces aren't hot. Le sigh, again.

But I'm not sad, really, I'm not. I'm camera shy anyway. Plus, I think I'm busy the day of the photo shoot. Yea, that's it, I've got plans.

Besides, I made up these great buttons you other losers non-nominated bloggers can grab. Just save one of the buttons below, link to this post, and you too can exploit revel in your ugliness mediocrity.

After you do that, why don't you join the club, and vote for your favorite hotties. I did!

And They Call This A Family Show

Recently we were spending an afternoon relaxing in our living room. The kids were watching recorded episodes of America's Got Talent, while Mr. Schmitty read the paper, and I read my copy of "Sleep Is For The Weak".

Periodically, the boys would get excited over an act. They would tell me to look up from my book and watch. R. just sat cuddled up next to me, quietly enjoying the performances.

At one point something intrigued her enough that she sprang up from my side. She squealed, "OOOOHHHH Mommy, what's she doing?"

I glanced at the television and saw this:

"I'm not sure honey, ask daddy."

I pretended to go back to my reading. As I glanced over the top of the book, I peered at my husband.

"Daddy, Daddy?! What's that lady doing?"

Mr. Schmitty, lost in his own world, snapped to attention and practically shouted at the poor child.

"Never mind, go read a book!"

All That And A Bag Of Chips?

Ahem. Looky, LOOKY at my left sidebar. Keep scrolling. Do you see it? Yup. I did it. I whined and begged and pleaded. And now? I've got it.

Thanks to my homeslices that put in a good word for me. I LURVE you Leslie and Slackermommy! And I also want to kiss you, you, you, you, you, you, and YOU for leaving me some lovin'!

So, that was easy.....and I was under the impression that this button only worked at Staples!

Just Eating Rainbows And Pooping Butterflies

Every day when I sit at my desk and fire up my browser, I go through the same routine. I log on to my email; both business and personal, I check my traffic stats, I see who is on Twitter and Tweet a bit, I see if anyone wants to be my friend on Facebook, I answer comments on my blogs, and I begin to read the tons of updated blog entries in Google Reader.

But, before I begin my day as Super Mom, I click on one more bookmark. I am quickly taken to my destination; the mighty Alltop. As I scroll down the Mom Blog page, the anticipation grows. As I furiously spin the wheel on my mouse, I recognize many of the names that flash by at top speed. All of the great bloggers have already taken their rightful places, as they should.

Could I some day rub elbows with these great women? Could today be that day? I keep going; faster and faster. Down, down, down. I am finally at the bottom, I look, hoping that I have made my way onto the coveted list.

DANG.

I am not "Featured On Alltop", I am not exclaiming "How The Hell Did That Happen?", I am not one of the "Cool Kids", and there certainly won't be any "Confirmation That I Kick Ass".

Sigh.

Listen, if anyone can help a girl out and put in a good word with Mr. Kawasaki, I would be truly grateful. I know the blogosphere is a massive place and I'm just a speck on a flower, but "I Am Here! I AM HERE!"

Have Times Really Changed?

Last week I was reading a post written by Tricia at Shout. After reading an Associated Press article about Raymond Daniel Thurmond, a Georgia man who was charged with holding his wife and four children captive in squalor for three years inside their mobile home, she posed a question to her readers.

Do we ignore our neighbors too much?

Her readers had much to say. Many were sickened and couldn't understand how this could go on for three years and not ONE neighbor noticed anything suspicious. Some believed that due to privacy issues, neighbors just don't want help. And others believed that we just do not have a sense of community these days. We no longer look after one another. The Village no longer helps raise the child.

This struck a deep chord with me.

There has always been abuse and neglect. That has never been different. We are just more exposed to these horrible stories because of our access to so many forms of media. We hear about it more often than we did years ago.

Now, that being said, I do agree that communities did exist that stood watch over one another. I believe those communities still exist in some places.

What I also believe is that there are many who, in the past and present, turned a blind eye toward unpleasant situations that did not directly concern them. People are afraid to get involved. They tell themselves that if they ignore it, it will go away. It won't be real.

What can they do anyway?

I grew up in a very abusive household. My father was an alcoholic. He was abusive in many ways to my mother. To my siblings. To me.

My father's family lived all around us. Literally. His parents, my grandparents, lived next door to us on the right. His aunt, uncle, and cousins lived in the other half of our house, a duplex, to the left.

The walls were not concrete. The sounds, I'm sure, carried. The yelling, the crying, the anger.

No one came. No one stopped him. No one protected the children. No ONE.

It Will Be Like Freaky Friday...Only It Will Be Monday

The kids SO need school to start. For their own good and for my own sanity. You know how it is, they have gotten to the middle of August and now they are bored. And I'm tired.

I'm tired of the bickering. The back talk. The laziness. The battles. I'm just so very tired.

All three of my rugrats lovelies will be attending school this year. W. is going to the middle school for 5th grade. He'll be leaving the house, to catch the bus, at 7:15 am. Yea, so not prepared for that fight. T. is going to the elementary school to begin half day kindergarten and R. is going to the same school to attend half day pre-school. They will be going every day in the afternoons. At.the.same.time. I get two and a half hours a day to myself.

Can I get an AMEN?!

Tonight when the war that is known as bedtime began, I told them that I had a great idea for tomorrow. I am going to be the kid and they were going to play parent. The three of them began to laugh and cheer. "Yeah!! We get to tell mom what to do!!"

I then burst their bubble with a breakdown of how the day will probably go.

• When I wake up I will climb in bed with you and poke you. If that doesn't rouse you, I will pull strands of your hair.
• I will tell you that "I don't have to go to the bathroom!" even though I'm doing the potty dance.
• I will pee standing up and will stretch at the same time spraying urine all over the seat and anything else within range.
• I will walk out of the bathroom without wiping, cleaning up the pee, flushing, or putting the seat down.
  
• You have to make me breakfast, when I decide to tell you what I want because "I just don't know!" After you make it, I will tell you that I changed my mind.
• I will spill my milk all over the table and onto the floor.
• I will leave my dirty dishes on the table and flop in front of the television.
• After you tell me to do my chores, at least 50 times, I will ask you what you said.
  
• I will get dressed and leave my clothes on the floor next to the hamper.
• You will notice that I did not change my underwear. You will tell me to, I will grunt at you and roll my eyes.
  
• I will brush my bottom back teeth only.
• I will squirt toothpaste all over the vanity.
• I will forget to wash my face, brush my hair, and make my bed.
• In between each of these steps I will ask you if my friends can come over to play. You will need to remind me that they can come over AFTER my chores are complete.
• I will invite my friends over to play Wii. We will get hungry so you will have to make us lunch.
• But first you will have to do a load of laundry after you clean out my underwear because I will poop in them even though I'm old enough not to.
• You will also have make sure I shower the stench off of me.
• I will waste twenty minutes in the shower and when you ask if I am done, I will say I didn't even start yet.
• You will need to dry the bathroom because I managed to splash water on every inch of surface.
• You will need to clean yourself up and continue making us lunch.
• I will argue with you that I'm done eating my lunch and want ice cream even though I only took one bite of my sandwich.
• After I finally decide to eat, I will do so over my lap and not the plate, making sure the crumbs fall to the floor.
• I will watch Ruby eat the peanut butter and jelly pieces and then proceed to throw it up all over the floor you mopped this morning after the spilled milk incident.
• My friends and I will suck on lollipops and leave the sticky wrappers and sticks on the rug and on the dressers.
• We will then ask for ice cream and cookies.
• We will run through the house screaming because we are now all sugared up.
• I will ask over and over if my friends can stay for dinner. We all want Happy Meals with a toy. All 10 of us. What do you mean you don't have any money? Just go to the bank.
• You will send my friends home and I will begin my forty minute meltdown. I'm too tired to clean up the mess we made!
• I will mope around until dinner is put on the table. I will complain about everything on the plate. I will not eat my vegetables.
• I will ask for ice cream. Again.
• I will spill my milk. Again.
• I will throw my paper plate on top of the garbage so it falls to the back of the cabinet.
• I will toss my, half a glass left of milk, into the sink and splatter milk all over the kitchen window.
  
• I will not go upstairs to the bathroom until somebody goes with me because there are monsters up there!
• When you tell me to put on my pajamas, I will run into your room, naked, and bounce up and down your your bed tempting you to catch me.
• I will probably get hurt and scream and cry and blame you.
  
• I will argue with you about going to bed until I notice my favorite television show is on. Then I will settle down to watch, only to bounce off the walls, two minutes before bedtime.
• I will say I am hungry. I will say I am thirsty. I will need to go to the bathroom. I will need a hug. I will need a kiss. I will need my quilt fixed. I will need the light turned up. I'm scared, I need you to sit with me. I will whine that "I'm not tired!" I will ask for each of these things, one at a time, after you have gone downstairs and gotten comfortable on the couch.
• All day I will tell you No. I will always have to have the last word. I will talk over you. I will ignore you when you talk. I will tell you that you are unfair. I might even tell you that I hate you even though later, I will swear I didn't mean it.

You all told me that you would put me in time-out in my room.

I'll just do what you all do. I'll do the dead body drop. Try carrying me up the stairs. Heh.

My Future Olympian

Did you see Michael Phelps yesterday? Wasn't that the most awesome, on the edge of your seat, display of athletic greatness, you've ever seen? Congratulations to him for winning his 7th Gold Medal!

And what about the Women's Gymnastics Individual All-Around? Did you see the 1-2 punch from Nastia Liukin and Shawn Johnson? Gold AND Silver, respectively. Those girls are amazing.

Mr. Schmitty has always been a big fan of the Olympics. He set the DVR to record at 8:00 pm every night. I love the Olympics too and watch when I can. We enjoy watching our favorites together; gymnastics, swimming, diving, and beach volleyball.

W. has taken a huge interest in watching the Olympics, as well. I was pleasantly surprised, as usually the only thing he is interested in using the television for, is video games.

Wii, Wii, Wii!

When he's not battling his friends, as he plays Super Smash Bros. Brawl, he's rooting for the American Olympians.

"Mom, when I'm older, maybe I can be in the Olympics! I could do running and pole vault!"

"You might want to start practicing that pole vault thing."

"I bet I could win as many, no MORE, Gold Medals than Michael Phelps!"

"You could, but you have to work really, REALLY hard."

He then yelled out to his brother to follow him up to their room. When W. gets a thought into his head, he becomes somewhat obsessed. I smiled and figured he was going upstairs to change into his running shorts and sneakers to begin his training.

When he didn't come back down, I went upstairs to peek in his room. There my boys were, playing Wii, more specifically Mario and Sonic at the Olympic Games.

"Oh hey mom, T. and I are going to win more Gold Medals than Michael Phelps!"

And that, my friends, is the reality of technology.

HOLY COW......

......I wonder why I'm broke and can't make ends meet......

W. has a friend over.
T. has a friend over.
R. has a friend over.

We have gone through:

• 4 Danimals yogurts
  
• 6 Poland Spring Aquapod water bottles.
• 2 packages of Purdue chicken nuggets
• 1 package of Ore-ida french fries
• 1/2 bottle of Mott's apple juice
• 6 M&M ice cream bars
• 7 Dum Dum lollipops (I like cherry)
  
• 2 cups of Lipton tea with sugar and milk (for me and one of the drop off moms)
• 2 cans of Diet Pepsi (I need the caffeine)
• 3 Advil

.....and they've only been here for three hours!

Proof That I Am A Reincarnated Adolescent Boy

Two nights ago, W. asked what SEX was. Flat.out.asked. *cringe*

Last year when I had this close call, and then when my niece almost started the ball rolling, and then when I really thought the "talk" was inevitable, I swore Mr. Schmitty was going to have to have a sit down and soon.

Nothing ever transpired. It was swept under the rug because W. dropped the subject. But really, we chickened out.

He's starting middle school in three weeks. I don't think we can ignore a point blank question. I quickly sent a text to Mr. Schmitty, "The time has come."

He told me he would talk to W. in the morning. Good idea. Yea, YOU talk to him. In the morning.

I slept in the next morning, or at least I pretended to, and when I got up Mr. Schmitty pulled me aside. He informed me that he had talked to W.

"How did it go? Did he have any questions?" I was very curious to know how my baby had reacted.

"It went fine. He didn't have any questions, but I told him that if he should think of some, I was here to answer them. Mr. Schmitty seemed quite proud of his parenting.

I raised an eyebrow. "So, exactly what did you say?"

I'm not going to type verbatim the conversation, however, I will tell you this; My son will NEVER EVER HAVE SEX. Not when he is a hormonal teen. Not even if his guys turn blue. Not even when he gets married. He won't touch his wife, except maybe for a handshake. Even then he may need antibacterial lotion.

I know we have to warn our children about disease. I know unprotected sex can kill. However, when that's the only part of sex you relay to your son, well, let's just say he might as well join a Monastery today. Oh wait, that won't work.

My bad.

I asked Mr. Schmitty if he explained that sex is something grown-ups, who LOVE.EACH.OTHER, do. Did he explain that sex can make a baby? Or did he just make sure that our son would go screaming from the first girl who wants to hold his hand?

SHEESH. Men.

"I am going to the book store. YOU need a book."

Last night my best friend and I went to Barnes and Noble. We began seeking out sex education books. She looked in the Child Care section, while I searched the Children's section.

Eureka! I hit the mother lode. I grabbed more than a half dozen or so books and went to find my friend.

"LOOOOOK!"

"Wow, let's check them out and see what will work best."

We started flipping through the pages. No, too scientific. Next. No, this one is more about girls. Next.

"Hee Hee. Look this cartoon has a boner."

"Snort. This one is masturbating."

"I AM NOT showing that one to W. He'll go blind when he discovers that."

"BWWAAAHHHAAA!"

"Or get hairy palms."

I looked up at the camera in the ceiling.

"You do know that security is thinking we are complete juveniles. What are we twelve? OH MY GOD THIS SAYS SCROTUM!!"

"I think I just peed myself!"

What Happened Here?

Take a look at this picture of Ruby.
Can you guess what happened in this picture?

1. We decided to add some orange highlights to her fur. She was looking somewhat mousy so we sent her to the infamous Brother-Sister Salon.

2. W. saw another bee and T. jumped, spilling his orange juice all over her.

3. R. got creative again and finger painted, this time with pureed carrots.

4. After asking W. to take out the garbage bag that was hanging on the back door approximately a gazillion times, Ruby decided to dig a huge hole in the plastic. She then wolfed down, like a scroungy trampy dog, ate the disposed of spaghetti and in the process she stained her fur with tomato sauce.

She's A Beauty....But She Ain't Sleeping!

MY.DAUGHTER.WILL.NOT.GO.TO.BED.AT.NIGHT.ANYMORE! For the past three weeks the bedtime ritual has gone to pot. Scratch that. The ritual is still happening, it's the bedtime part that's got a glitch.

R. has been battling me for at least an hour to an hour and a half every.single.night. I know I'll be getting lots of advice on this one. So, let me tell you now, I've probably tried it.

I've gone the sweet mommy route with lullaby singing and back rubbing. R. just talks and talks through it.

I've even gone Supernanny on her. When she gets settled in bed, I kiss her goodnight and leave the room. I go down the stairs. The door opens. I go back up the stairs. I pick her up. I put her back in bed. I turn and the process starts all over again. And again. And again. And so on and so on. You get the picture.

I'm telling you, I should have million dollar legs from all of my stair stepping.

This past week my mother-in-law was staying with us. Which is another post, entirely. Mom was staying in R.'s room and my dear daughter was staying in my bed with me. Mr. Schmitty had to work early so he took the spare bedroom. Lucky bastard. I'm sure he slept like a baby.

At 8:00, R. settled down and watched some cartoons. When it was time for sleep, I turned off the tv and told her to close her eyes. She said, "Mom, you sleep too."

"I can't honey, I have some work to do. I'll be up in a little while to snuggle with you."

Imagine what an atomic bomb must sound like when it explodes. Now multiply that by ten.

For the next ninety minutes I got pillows hurled at me, names spewed at me, and ultimatums thrown at me. That's right, she was giving me ultimatums.

"Mommy, you better come to bed NOW! Or I won't like you anymore!"

The grudge match had been waged. Who do you think she gets her stubborn streak from? Mr. Schmitty? I think not.

There was no way this momma was backing down now. I informed her that it was time for her to lie down and go to sleep. I said I would sit on the bed until she fell asleep so she wouldn't feel alone in my room. I was not, however, going to sleep yet because I was a grown up and it was not my bedtime yet.

She crossed her arms, stuck that button nose of hers up in the air, and "humpfed" at me as she turned her head.

"NO! You need to go to sleep, I said!"

As bratty as that is, and I know that it absolutely is, it was also so darned cute that I had to stifle a laugh.

"Do I need to get the duct tape for that fresh mouth of yours?" I asked her.

"Who has the duck tape?"

"The duck does."

"We don't have a duck!"

She began to giggle. Then my Sybil reincarnate yawned and put her head on the pillow. I sang three verses of "Hush Little Baby" as I sat on the bed. Just like I said I would, neener, neener, neener.

That's all it took for the Princess to fall fast asleep. Some comic relief.

And they lived happily ever after.....at least for another 24 hours.....THE END.

I'm Too Sexy For This Shirt

I love to people watch. The world is full of so many colorful characters and I need to see them all. How else can I find blogging material? I've got to be nosy observant to bring you the funny, don't I?

I am very aware of my surroundings and usually never miss much. I can hold a conversation and still witness, though not happily, an old man inappropriately adjusting himself at Walmart. I never miss any drama, which means I will see you flip off your significant other, whilst you are sporting that cheesy smile.

I also never fail to spot the freaks more interesting folk in the crowd. You know, like the bat-shit crazy lady that talks to herself and answers herself back. And the Fred Flintstone look alike that browses the local mall in a dress and heels. How about the frazzled mom with the half eaten ear?

Oh wait, that's my reflection. Strike that.

The most amusing part of watching others, I find, is eyeing their outfits. I seriously wonder if some own a mirror.

Last weekend Mr. Schmitty and I went to two concerts; Carrie Underwood on Saturday and Daughtry on Sunday.

Two different types of music = two different types of people = a whole lotta strange.

The concerts were being held at a nearby festival. Before they began, we walked through the rows of food vendors and t-shirt mongers. We were thoroughly enjoying our grown-up weekend out. As we strolled hand in hand, we entertained ourselves by pointing out the various ensembles the patrons were donning.

And we were laughing our butts off.

There was the shirtless, rail-thin boy who looked like he needed a belt to hold up the jeans that seem to be sliding down his boxers. Oh wait, maybe that was a fashion statement.

There was the did-you-spray-paint-those-jeans-on biker chick who needed a little more fabric added to her top before she fell out of it.

There was the 10 foot giant that must have grown during the opening act's performance because his jeans were about a foot too short and his shirt about three sizes too tight. Maybe he stole the rail-thin boy's shirt. Hey, and maybe they swapped jeans too.

That would explain a lot.

The music was about to start and we found our seats. We wiped away the tears of laughter and I said, "Thank GOD we're so perfect!"

Well, at least I am.

The Dreaded C Word

Lately, I feel I have been surrounded by the C word. And no, not THAT C word, I'm not talking about vajayjays here.

Cancer. That *shiver* C word.

It all started when I received a friend request on Facebook. It was from the sister of a high school classmate. A classmate who had passed on October 28, 2000, after battling Melanoma. I read her story at Kate's Foundation, a website dedicated to making others aware of the dangers of the sun and this horrible disease.

One night, while on Twitter, Karen posted a message about her friend Lisa at Clusterfook. Lisa is a three-time cancer fighter. She was diagnosed in 2004 with Ovarian Cancer. What strikes me about Lisa is her strength. Her main concern is to make sure her family is taken care of. Her medical bills are draining, so if you can help, please stop by her place and make a donation. She doesn't want hers to be a sob story...it is what it is.

This past week the blogging community has been thrown into worry over Midwestern Mommy's ordeal. She was admitted to the hospital with severe stomach pain and after reviewing two CT scans, an emergency room doctor informed her that she had cancer. Lisa was told it could be Colon Cancer or Lymphoma. Tests are still being performed to find out exactly what she is up against. Please stop by her blog and send her some positive thoughts and prayers.

The Perfect Post Awards for July were announced yesterday. Lindsay at Suburban Turmoil nominated Andrea of Punk Rock Mommy. The submitted post was published after Andrea's passing from Inflammatory Breast Cancer. It was her last blog post. A true Mom until the end, her story is heartbreaking, yet inspiring. Her husband and six children are continuing their story. See how they are living through the tragedy and loss of Andrea.

Yesterday I needed to go back to my dermatologist. I had gone a few weeks ago for my annual checkup and during the appointment a dark mole was removed from my right ear. I received a call a few days ago that the mole had tested positive for abnormal cells. The doctor wanted me to come in and have just a little more taken off.

So, off I went. What's another chunk out of my ear? That's why I keep the hair long, yes?

I was sitting in the examination room, looking at the instruments on the table, trying not to envision them cutting my ear. The doctor walked in, and after a few minutes of small talk, says, "Good thing you came in for your checkup. The cells were very abnormal. If you had not come in when you did, the mole would have turned into a Melanoma."

WTF? I felt like I got kicked in the nuts, if I had 'em.

She began excising the already healing hole in my ear. She needed to remove a larger, deeper area. She will let me know what pathology reports. She would like to see me in six months.

Apparently that was all. She told me to make sure I wear a hat and sunblock and keep an eye on my moles. She said goodbye and left the room.

I sat for a few minutes, a little shell shocked. I grabbed my purse and left.

She apparently doesn't know me very well. That is NOT all where I am concerned. I am a worrier. I am a pessimist that always dwells on the worse case scenario. I FREAK THE FUCK OUT at things like this.

On the drive home, I lose my shit.

But then, I remember the stories I have read in the past weeks. I wipe my eyes. I take a deep breath and tell myself to put on my big girl panties. I tell the voices in my head to shut the hell up. I am okay. I am lucky and blessed that it was caught before it became the C word.

Katie, Lisa, Lisa, and Andrea, please accept my apology for being an insensitive jerk. I think I need to learn a bit about dignity from the four of you.

Bloggy Giveaway Winner!

Thank you to everyone who entered my Carnival for this round of the Bloggy Giveaways! As promised, I have used the random generator to choose a winner.

And it's......

#29....Charlotte from lawdawgsgirl! Congratulations!

Please email me at aschmittylife(at)aol(dot)com and let me know where you would like your prize shipped.

I hope you enjoy the Picture Painter Software and I hope you enjoyed my blog!

Perfect Post Awards

I just love The Perfect Post Awards because they are bestowed on bloggers by other bloggers. This is my first time participating in this monthly award, which is hosted by Kimberly at Petroville, and Lindsay at Surburban Turmoil. If you haven't done so already, stop by their places today and see who else received some accolades.

So, on with the show. I didn't consciously go looking for someone to nominate for this award. I read the Perfect Posts regularly on Kimberly and Lindsay's blogs, however, I just never thought to partake in the action. Thanks ladies for letting me jump in!

On Sunday, July 6th, I was catching up on my blog reading. Miss Britt was the next one up in my reader. I always enjoy her posts. She can make me laugh. She can make my eyes well up with tears. She also can make me think. This post? Well, she accomplished all three.

After reading it, I knew I wanted to submit this touching post for the month of July. Go ahead and read it for yourself. I know you will enjoy it as much as I did.

By the way, Miss Britt? From what I can tell, you are doing a damn great job as mommy to your kids! You ROCK!