So Much For Concealer

I've told you all that I have PCOS. (I know, I know, like a hundred times) Well, one of the symptoms of this hormonal nightmare is acne. Now, I wouldn't say that I'm a festering pizza face, but I will say that I can get quite the breakout before AF comes along.

I really don't think I had this many zits when I was a teenager. It's horrible and I can't seem to avoid them. And they aren't little, oh no, they are the whopping, red and angry kind.

The other day my daughter came home with a project she did in Pre-K. Every month the kids create new place mats for their classroom snack. At the end of the month, once a new mat is made, they get to bring home the previous month's laminated masterpiece.

Her place mat had her name in big, bold letters and below that was a drawing of a person.

"R., I love your place mat! Here you have your name and your drawing must be you!"

"Thank you mommy, but that's you."

"Oh! What a nice drawing. You even included my belly button!"

[giggles from R.]

"But one question, what's that?" I asked as I pointed to a dot between my eyes.

"That's your zit mommy!"

Dang, I thought she had given me a bindi.

Leave No Child Indoors

"American children, ages 3 to 12, spend 27 percent of their time with electronic media, 1 percent outdoors.

The average American 2-year-old spends more than four hours a day with electronic devices, and 29 percent have a television in their room.

Unstructured activities account for 30 minutes a week.

Half of all American children will be overweight by 2010.

And by the way, did you know that 80 percent of the Ritalin in the world is consumed in the United States, mostly by kids?"

All of the above statistics were quoted in an article published by a local newspaper. I received this link today from my friend and neighbor who attended the conference - "Leave No Child Indoors: Nature in the Lives of Young Children".

The speaker, Ken Finch, an environmental educator from Omaha, Nebraska, points out that children today are not left to be, just that; children.

"Childhood is not about cognitive learning, it's about play," he says. "The good news: We're starting to understand this.

"The other good news: Kids haven't changed. It's there innately, the love of nature. But it has to be activated."

The man is completely on target. I know with my own children, they some times get so caught up in video games, television, and iPods that I almost have to throw them out into the fresh air.

Do you remember when you were a kid? I know when I was young, I was out from morning until dark. I didn't go home, except for meals. We climbed trees, biked, roller skated, played tennis and baseball, and we formed teams for manhunt. We got dirty.

Look outside your window on a sunny day. You don't see that, do you? I've commented more than once that kids just don't do those things, as much, anymore. Instead they will play baseball using a controller and a television set.

Now, I like my computers and my electronic devices too. I understand the appeal of technology. What I also understand, after thinking about this article, is that I too have forgotten about getting out into the fresh air. I've gotten lazy and too dependant upon my gadgets. I need to take my children and go for a hike. Dig for earthworms. Work up a sweat. And interact with nature.

So, who's with me?

A Must See

Thank you to everyone who commented on my last post. Your messages were very kind. My friend, G., is doing okay, as is his family, but they will never be the same. K. was an amazing person and he will be missed by many. Again, thank you all for your words of encouragement.

Now, because I have been very, VERY busy lately, I've noticed that I haven't been posting as much as I usually do.

You are probably thinking, "Where's the Funny?" (Hey, remember that commercial, "Where's The Beef?")

Anyway, without further ado.............

Such A Bittersweet Day

Today started off beautifully. My daughter, R., woke up as a five year old. She jumped into bed with me, her dad, and her brother, T. All that was missing was W., who had already gone off to school.

As we snuggled, the telephone rang, it was my mom. My baby brother was on the way to the hospital with his girlfriend, L., who was just eight days shy of her due date. Her water broke and she was ready to deliver my nephew.

R. was thrilled that she was going to be sharing her birthday with her new baby cousin.

The day went on happily.

There were two dozen pink and hot pink balloons floating in R.'s room when she returned from school. There were presents from her big brothers. There was a special dinner, hand picked by the birthday girl. There was a huge chocolate brownie with candles. There was even time for a little Pre-Halloween mischief to be done to our wonderful neighbors.

At 12:08 pm, a 7 lb. 7 oz baby boy was born. I was now a first-time aunt (on my family's side). Ten toes and ten fingers. Strawberry-blonde hair, just like I had when I was born.

I was loving this day.

And then the shoe dropped. I opened an email from an old friend. The subject line read a single name. The name belonged to the brother of one of my best friends from high school.

I immediately knew how the words in the email would form, even before I read it. It would not be good news.

Many, many years ago, this brother, K., a year younger than I, was in a horrible skiing accident. He was left paralyzed from the neck down. It devastated my friend, G., and his family.

G., K., and his family struggled onward. Emotionally, mentally, and physically they endured so much. Each family member dealt with the situation in their own way, as best as they could.

My friend G., shouldered a lot of the load. He had his own, debilitating health issues. But being the man he is, he still took care of his family. He put their needs and wants before his own. He helped take care of K. He made sure K. did some of the things he loved to do before that terrible day.

People who live as a quadriplegic frequently have health problems which are complicated from the injury. A few weeks ago, K. was admitted to the hospital with pneumonia. He then contracted MRSA. Antibiotics were not able to stop the infection.

I cried as I read the email. K. had succumbed to this most recent illness. I now face the task of helping inform some of the many people who loved him. He will be missed tremendously.

What Would Possess A Child?

When the subject of "the things kids do" comes up, my mother always likes to tell the story of me destroying the bathroom walls. Apparently, when I was young, somewhere between the ages of 3 and 5, I got an idea. While sitting on the toilet, I began to pull the wallpaper off the walls. Not just small pieces, mind you, but entire panels.

I vaguely remember the act, though I am very clear on my father's reaction. What would possess me to do such a thing? Was I constipated and things were taking too long? Did I need a way to entertain myself? I certainly was too young to be reading the newspaper. What else was a kid to do?

Was I just an evil little shit that loved to get into trouble? Nah, that couldn't have been it, not with a father like I had.

Or was I just a bonehead? Because, really, what makes a kid decided, "Hey, let's strip this paper off the walls?"

A few days ago my daughter was sitting on the toilet. She had a pen in her hand and she was trying to write on a tissue. I handed her a notepad and told her to write on that so the pen didn't rip through the tissue and get on her leg.

She began to doodle on the paper and I told her to call me when she was finished. When I returned I found the notepad on the floor. I looked at my daughter and saw that she had completely covered her thighs in black ink.

She smirked at me and instantly I knew what possessed her; the devil in a pint-sized package. Her mischievous behavior I could totally understand because, well, that's my daughter in a nutshell.

But what was my son thinking last night? The kids had gone up to their rooms to get in bed and watch cartoons. Mr. Schmitty and I were in the living room catching up on some DVR'd shows.

T. came out of his room and asked, "What happens when you put water in your ear?"

Mr. Schmitty told him not to try it and to get back to bed. I knew better than to let something like that go.

"Why T.? Did you put something in your ear?" I asked.

He came down the stairs with that LOOK on his face, "Ummmm, no."

After a few minutes of a tug-of-war with words, crying, and denial, he finally admitted that he had put something in his ear. We placed him on the table and looked in. Sure enough, we could see something small and white, just inside the ear. It looked like a tiny, rubber stopper from the bottom of a toy.

After waiting in an emergency room for two hours, a doctor was able to pull the object out in seconds. Thankfully for T. there was minimal pain.

He told me that he learned his lesson and will NEVER put anything in his ears again. I asked him the question, "What possessed you to do that?"

He replied, "I don't know, I guess I was bored."

He forgot, to add "And I'm a bonehead!"

It appears that the apple doesn't fall far from the tree.

Insert Foot Into Mouth

Mr. Schmitty came across an error on our phone/digital cable/internet line bill today. We have a package deal for the three services from a certain company, I'll call Berizon. Heh.

For some reason, since July, we have been charged an extra $15.00 for a movie package we never ordered. I never picked up on it because quite frankly, I never scrutinize the bills that closely. I really just don't have the time.

I'm a utility companies favorite customer. Unless I see a tremendous difference in a month to month bill, I really don't look further than the "pay this amount" line.

Perhaps this is why we can't seem to get a grip on our budget. I'm an idiot when it comes to knowing what is a good price and what isn't. I'm trying to change that, the recent economy issues are giving me that wake up call.

So, Mr. Schmitty called Berizon and spoke with a good 'ole customer service rep. I could tell from his side of the conversation that this rep actually knew what she was doing.

Can I get an Amen?

I sat and listened to my husband speak to the girl on the phone. His voice just dripped with sugary sweetness. This is how I knew he was conversing with a female. Had he been speaking to a man, his voice would have taken on a deeper, more manly tone. I chuckled to myself.

He was put on hold for a few minutes while the rep checked on our bill.

"Wow, honey, aren't you all sweet and polite!" I teased, "You should talk to ME like that on the phone!"

He replied, "I'm being nice because she's being really helpful and she's not being a bitch."

[blink blink]

"Nice, babe."

"What?!"

[blink blink]

Sometimes it's just best to keep your mouth shut.

The Bullet Catch Up

Last week was kind of crazy. Busy, busy, busy! So I figured a bullet type post was in order.

• Why is it when you are SEVERELY PMSing, because your cycle just lasted 48 days, your husband has to work all weekend. No lying around in fat pants, eating chocolate and licking salt off pretzels, for me.

• I bought the kid's Halloween costumes. Can you say, rip off? I just can't believe the price of them. Next year? I swear I am going to FORCE the kids to make their own!

• T. is going to be the black Spiderman. I didn't know there WAS a black Spiderman. I thought he was red and blue. I never did get to see those movies.

• W. is going to be a Werewolf. I just hope he doesn't scare himself looking in a mirror. You should have seen how freaked out he was in the Halloween store. All the masks terrified him!

• Get this. R. picked out her costume all by herself. I keep making everyone guess what she chose. Not.One.Person.Guessed.Correctly! She's going to be an Angel. BWAAAAHHHHHA!

• I went out to dinner with an old friend on Friday night. It was great to get out and catch up with her.

• W.'s soccer team finally seemed to mesh on Saturday. They still got their butts handed to them, but it was a very exciting game. They really worked great together. W. did really well!

• It's so nice to finally go to a party and not have to follow the kids around to make sure they aren't getting into trouble. Mr. Schmitty and I actually hung out with the other adults and enjoyed ourselves. The kids had a blast too.

• We played Screw Your Neighbor at the party. As the women were pretty intoxicated, the talk turned a little X rated. Side bets were being propositioned, if you get my drift. Too bad for the fellas that drunk wives promising sexual favors during a card game is usually bullshit. We were just amusing ourselves and laughing hysterically at their expense.

• We stayed out way too late on Saturday and then got up at the butt crack of dawn to watch my niece run in her cross country meet. By the time the meet was over, the tired and cranky Schmitty family, was in need of some serious sleep and food before someone was tossed from the minivan and onto the highway.

• My business has kept me pretty swamped lately. I have a really big order I am designing for a mom I know in town. Her daughter is having her Bat Mitzvah in November and I am creating all of the seating cards, menus, etc. I decided to treat myself with the profits and buy myself a new camera.

• I purchased a Canon Powershot SX110IS. I love it!! The pictures are beautiful.

• Which reminds me. I need to start planning my Christmas card. I always get very creative and have to come up with a new idea every year. Friends and family tell me that they can't wait to see what I've come up with.

• I need to write over at the BlubHer Overhaul. I'm kind of avoiding my Sistahs. I've fallen off the wagon a bit in the past few days.

• W. surprised me with his interim grades. Reading/86, Social Studies/88, Math/88, Science/91, and Language Arts/97. Now, if he actually APPLIED himself some more, could you imagine the grades?

• I'm planning my daughter's birthday party. She's going to be 5 on the 20th! I can't believe it. We are handing out the invites tomorrow for her "Puppy Party". It's going to be so cute!

• No sign of a Possum OR Rat the past few days. But I still haven't stepped foot into the back yard.

• I need to read 398 blog posts in my reader! I'm never going to catch up!!! So forgive me if I don't comment this week. I will be lurking but as I am behind in a lot of things, I don't think I'll be able to leave any witty words. Please forgive me!

• Well, I hope I didn't bore you to tears. Once I am caught up, I promise, I will come up with something better!

'Til then Muuuuuaaaah!

Freaking The Frack Out!!!!

My dog, Ruby, is a yapper. She has this high pitched bark that goes right through me. And she barks at everything.

Someone knocks at the door. She barks. Someone walks past the house. She barks. Someone puts a glass down on the table a little too loudly. She barks. Someone leaves the ketchup bottle on the counter. SHE.BARKS!

About twenty minutes ago I sat my butt down at my desk to draw up some proofs for a customer's notepads. Like the complete pain in the ass she is, she took that as her cue to start scratching on the back door to go out.

I sighed, heaved my body back out of my chair, and let her out. She took off across the yard like a bullet. Of course, barking wildly.

After I swallowed my heart back into my chest, I went outside and yelled at her to shut up.

She was going bananas by the fence, near the shed.

"RUBY! Get over here!" Ugh, That Stoopid Dog! The kids probably knocked over their wagon and dumb-dumb couldn't figure out what it was. She does things like that. One night she carried on for fifteen minutes because I had placed a bag of garbage outside the back door.

Suddenly I heard a yelp. Then I heard nails climbing up the wooden fence. Ruby started to run frantically along the fence. Her barking got crazier.

Then a black shadow appeared, running along the top of the fence. It's silhouette outlined by the light of the moon.

And then I saw IT. A long, [chill just ran up my spine], skinny [goosebumps] tail!!!

OH.HELLZ.NO!

My heart started pounding out of my chest. "THAT HAD BETTER BE A FUCKING POSSUM!" I thought but realized I had actually screamed across the yard. [doing the I've got the willies dance on the patio]

"RUBY COME GET A TREAT....HERE GIRL, HERE'S A COOKIE!!! [pacing wildly on the patio prepared to dive through the glass of the storm door if I see glowing eyes]

Ruby came running, because dog treats are her life. I ran like hell into the laundry room and slammed and locked the door. Then I put up a barricade, you know, in case that THING WITH THE TAIL has a key!

[still shaking and getting goosebumps]

If that was a rat, I'm moving. Now, excuse me while I go change my underwear.

For My Dear Sam

I tried to leave the following as a comment to this post at Sam's blog, Temporarily Me. I guess it was too long, as it wouldn't go through. I think this is worthy of it's own post.

Sam, honey, this is for you!

A man came home from work and found his three children outside,
still in their pajamas, playing in the mud, with empty food boxes
and wrappers strewn all around the front yard.
The door of his wife's car was open, as was the front door to the
house and there was no sign of the dog.
Proceeding Into the entry, he found an even bigger mess.
A lamp had
been knocked over, and the throw rug was wadded against one wall.
In the front room the TV was loudly blaring a cartoon channel, and
the family room was strewn with toys and various items of clothing.
In the kitchen, dishes filled the sink, breakfast food was spilled
on the counter, the fridge door was open wide, dog food was spilled
on the floor, a broken glass lay under the table, and a small pile
of sand was spread by the back door.
He quickly headed up the stairs, stepping over toys and more piles of
clothes, looking for his wife.
He was worried she might be ill, or that something serious had
happened.
He was met with a small trickle of water as it made its
way out the bathroom door.
As he peered inside he found wet towels, scummy soap and more toys
strewn over the floor.
Miles of toilet paper lay in a heap and toothpaste had been smeared
over the mirror and walls.
As he rushed to the bedroom, he found his wife still curled up in
the bed in her pajamas, reading a novel.
She looked up at him, smiled, and asked how his day went.
He looked at her bewildered and asked, 'What happened here today?'
She again smiled and answered, 'You know every day when you come
home from
work and you ask me what in the world I do all day?'
'Yes,' was his incredulous reply.
She answered, 'Well, today I didn't do it.

Now, give him a taste and THEN kick him in HIS nuts!

Eyes

My daughter has the most interesting color eyes. They are a combination of both of her brother's eyes. The green that makes up most of the iris is from W. and the traces of brown surrounding the pupil are from T. I guess you could say her eyes are hazel.

Eyes, for me, are the first thing I notice on a person. They can say a lot about someone. You can show no emotion on your face, but your eyes can't seem to hide what you are feeling. They can be sad or they can smile.

They can also be terrifying. My father had those type of eyes. The ones that bore into you. Ones that looked at you, as he ranted, and made you stay put in your place. No matter how much you wanted to run and hide. I would stay planted where I stood, frozen. Sometimes for hours. And though I still don't understand it, his eyes always found mine. No matter who the target of his anger was directed at, he'd always make that contact with me. It still remains a mystery to me. It still makes me shiver.

I love my daughter's big, beautifully colored eyes. But every so often, a certain glance or expression will look at me, and for a split second, I will see him. It sends a chill up my spine.

I hate that he is a part of her. I hate that no matter how hard I try to keep him out of my life, he will always be there, in her eyes.

National Breast Cancer Awareness Month

October is a very important month for women. It is the month that Breast Cancer is pushed into the forefront. Everyone is talking about the disease that has affected over 2 million women in the United States.

But it's one month. What about the other eleven?

I don't know about you, but I pay attention in October. But life takes over and by the end of November I'm worrying about what size turkey to stuff and how many shopping days are left until Christmas.

I am ashamed to admit this. I haven't been to my gynecologist in over two years. Circumstances lead me to cancel past appointments. I am 41 years old and have not had my first mammogram yet.

I know.

I have been spared, thus far, of having this beast hit close to home. My family and I have dodged the bullet. That's not to say I will continue to be so lucky. It's sometimes a crap shoot.

Here I am, thinking of the pledge I made LAST October. I vowed to get in to see that doctor and to schedule my mammogram. I guess I'm not very good at keeping promises to myself. I am going to try again. On Monday, I.WILL.MAKE.THAT.APPOINTMENT! This time I am promising all of the brave survivors out there. I might not take myself seriously, but for you, I will do the responsible thing.

Would you like to help out Stage IV Breast Cancer Patients? Then I ask you to take a virtual walk with me and my dear friend and fellow Jersey Girl, Liz of This Full House. Visit the Gal to Gal Walk and create a walker for yourself by donating $5.00 to their cause. Search for Team "This Full House" to walk with Liz and I. Let me know in comments if you have joined us so I can add you to my walk page.

Now, go lie down and prod those ta-tas!

Check It Out

Hey....I've got a new Find/Review blog up and running...stop by and give me some lovin'!
"Mrs. Schmitty Says...."