And This Is What I Have To Live With

After I dropped T. and R. off at school on Monday, I stopped by the grocery store to get something for dinner. Mr. Schmitty likes the orange Vitamin Water, so I wanted to buy him a few bottles. I reached up to the top shelf and grabbed a large bottle in each hand.

I suddenly felt something splash on me. The lid on the bottle in my right hand was cracked. I now had sticky orange drink all over my hands, in my hair, and on my jacket.

Great.

There happened to be an employee standing by, restocking shelves, so I handed her the broken container.

Upon returning home, I noticed that Mr. Schmitty had recently been there. I gave him a call to say that I was sorry I had missed him. I told him about getting doused with the drink, which had left strands of my hair sticky, hard, and stuck together.

He burst out laughing. I mean he really, REALLY went hysterical.

"Okay, hon, it's not THAT funny," I said.

"I did it!" He shouted into the phone between fits of laughter.

"Huh? You did what?" I asked, totally confused.

"The other night when I went to the grocery store, I dropped a bottle!" He was now sounding like he might hyperventilate.

"YOU broke that bottle? And you put it back?"

"Snort. Uh-Huh! SNORT!"

"You're an idiot."

So basically my husband set a booby trap for me at the grocery store. Only in my life could such a thing happen. This my friends, is a Schmitty Life!

Dear Tarjay,

You are my favorite of all stores. I do heart you. However, I am downright upset and frustrated with you at the moment.

Two weeks ago I was happily perusing your lovely aisles. Something I do quite often. I had a small list of items I needed to purchase that day, though I never leave you without a few extra goodies thrown in for good measure.

There was the Transformers birthday present, along with card and gift bag. Some cute Valentine's Day socks I bought for R. They were in the $1 section, no less! She and I were both thrilled.

I rifled through the sock bin, looking for her size. As I was thinking of her feet, it dawned on me that she had grown out of her snow boots from the year before. The shoe department was my next stop.

I hated the idea of having to buy boots, as the past few years have yielded only small amounts of the white stuff, but I also didn't want to be caught off guard. I needed something to keep my little girl's feet toasty and dry.

I started going up and down the aisles of girl's shoes. Sneakers, sandals, and flip flops. Hmmm, maybe I missed them. I retraced my steps. More flip flops, oh and swim shoes. I looked across the way, bathing suits and terry cover ups, as far as the eye could see.

Not one stinking pair of boots. NOT.ONE!

I know people go on vacation in the winter. Most go to warm, tropical places. I know they may need a swimsuit or two. Maybe a new pair of slip-on shoes.

BUT IT'S JANUARY, PEOPLE. JANUARY IN JERSEY!

It is neither warm nor tropical here. It's freaking cold out. It's snowy, icy, and wet. I should be able to buy my daughter a pair of snow boots.

I can't wait for summer either, but please, can you at least wait until March next time?

Yours truly,

Mrs. Schmitty

The Silent Scream

My daughter, who is usually a brute, has realized that there is another way to get attention other than punching, kicking, and pinching.

She has learned secret weapon #1 of a woman. Resort to crying when all else fails.

If her brothers are mean to her, she will now seek me out, to cry on my shoulder. I can hear the sobs from rooms away, the drama getting louder, the closer she gets. She should, quite frankly, be up for an Oscar this year.

She'll see me and the crocodile tears will be squeezed out of her big, beautiful eyes with more urgency. She'll squint and grit her teeth so hard, trying to squeak out every ounce of liquid she can.

I just want to burst out laughing.

Just the other day, I was once again a spectator to one of her performances.

"Mamaaaaaaaa, my boys are being mean to me!" She whined.

I picked her up and placed her on the kitchen counter, "Awwww, what did they do?" I asked, trying to look sympathetic as I bite my lower lip.

She grabbed me around the neck and hugged me. "They won't let me play Wii!"

Oh the nerve!

"Well, honey, they were playing first. I am sure they will give you a turn," I replied, as I pushed her hair off of her wet face. I gave her a kiss on the nose and she smiled.

Mr. Schmitty walked behind me and asked what happened. I turned slightly and began to fill him in on the current spectacle.

Then suddenly I felt it. It was an excruciating pain. It was like none I had ever felt before. I spun around and clung to Mr. Schmitty so I didn't fall to the floor in agony. My mouth was wide open but no sound was escaping. My eyes teared up and I didn't know whether to cry or laugh uncontrollably.

You see, as I was talking to my husband, R. decided to give me a purple nurple a titty twister pinch and turn my nipple on my right breast upside down.

It seems as though my daughter still needs to resort to violence if she doesn't have your undivided attention!

New Header!

I needed a bit of a change. What do you think?

I Hope HE Didn't Teach HER That!

I was sitting in the living room emptying out backpacks and going through school papers, when I heard footsteps pounding across the floor above me.

T. came bounding down the stairs, with Ruby at his heels. He was shrieking with glee and she was yapping, her tail wagging furiously. The two were filled with so much excitement, I thought they might burst.

"MOM!!! I need to give Ruby a treat!!" He exclaimed.

Now I know why Ruby was beside herself and in an all out frenzy. All you have to say is "tre" and she goes bananas.

"Calm down T.!" I laughed, "What's up?"

"Ruby learned a new trick!!!" He shouted as he jumped up and down.

"That's awesome! What can she do?" I asked, sure that she had done something accidentally, as she's about as smart as a bag of rocks.

"This!" He said, grinning ear to ear. And with that, he plopped down on the floor, bent his knees slightly, put his arms between his legs with his palms flat, and proceeded to scoot his butt across the rug.

Thank You So Much!

I received an award...twice! The Lemonade Award is handed out to blogs that show great attitude and gratitude.

WOW! I am so honored.

I received this award from two wonderful women; Kellyn at The Fritz Facts and Liz at This Full House.

Thank you so much!!!

Now, I am to share my award with those I love.

So, without further ado, will Georgie, Meleah, Laura, Leigh, Christy, Maria, Kelley, Patois, Jennifer, and Bonnie please accept this award?

And if you feel so inclined, please pay it forward:

1. Put the logo on your blog or post.
2. Nominate at least 10 blogs with a great attitude / gratitude.
3. Link the nominees within your post.
4. Let them know you have given the award by leaving them a comment on their blog.
5. Share the love and link this post and to the person from whom you received this award.

Take A Cue From Me

The first thing I have always noticed about a person is their smile. Unless, of course, I'm being introduced to a hawt guy, then it's his butt.

[wink, wink]

I am forever envious of those with perfectly aligned teeth. Those who were blessed with gorgeous grins, whether achieved through DNA or the expertise of an Orthodontist, always make me aware of my own set of chompers.

You see, I have a less than stellar set of teeth. Believe it or not, my mouth is too small for them all. Yea, can you believe that? Okay, stop laughing.

The crowding in my mouth warranted braces when I was a teen. My parents didn't have dental insurance. And to save that kind of money, well, interfered with my father's social agenda. I mean, just compare the two; braces for his daughter or buying round after round of brewskies, weekly, for his drinking buddies. I seriously couldn't expect him to disappoint his friends, now could I?

I endured teasing, as you can imagine. My teeth protruded, for a while, so I was at the receiving end of all of the "bucktooth" jokes. I swear I semi-corrected my own overbite by making sure that I had my front teeth pulled in behind my lips at all times.

But the overbite wasn't the worst of it. My right Cuspid, or Canine tooth, grew in front of the others. I took on the nickname of "Snagletooth". Something like that, just does wonders for a teenage girl's confidence. The cruel remarks were made behind my back, which was fortunate for them, because they were free to live another day, but the comments always seemed to find a way to my ears. One way or another.

It stung.

When I was eighteen I saved the money I earned while working as a part-time receptionist. I went to our family dentist and demanded he extract my right Cuspid. It was all I could afford to do to help ease some of my pain. He was very upset that I wanted to pull a perfectly healthy tooth.

I didn't care.

He may not have understood. He may have been angry. But pulling that one tooth, restored a little bit of a young girl's self-esteem.

A few years ago I talked with my current dentist and asked his opinion about correcting my teeth. I didn't so much as want to for cosmetic reasons, as I pretty much have come to terms with my smile. It is something I happen to do quite a lot of, thank you very much.

But I was interested, because of some sinus issues I have, due to an extremely high palate. My dentist told me that because of my high palate, it would a very unpleasant experience. He continued to say that had the work been done when I was a teenager, it would have been easier. He did not recommend that I proceed at this point in my life.

Thanks again, dad, how's the liver holding up?

Not surprisingly, my children will probably all need braces. W. has already been through phase one. He had braces for about a year, which were placed on the adult teeth that he has so far. They were then removed and he now wears a retainer.

That is, he wears it when I practically shove it into place.

He frequently forgets to put it in his mouth after eating. It drives me batty. I really have to go find my freshman high school picture.

I bet THAT will make him more willing.

A Big Round Of Applause For Wegmans

I went grocery shopping today. When I was walking into my local Wegman's, I noticed a huge sign outside of the Pharmacy entrance.

FREE Antibiotics with Shopper's Club Card

Seriously?!

Now, Mr. Schmitty has a great prescription plan through work. I can't even begin to tell you how lucky we were to have this when I went through my infertility treatments. It was a Godsend. We also frequently need antibiotics for W. because of his health history. Every time he has a dentist or orthodontist appointment, he needs a dose of Amoxicillin to avoid contracting Bacterial Endocarditis.

I can't imagine the expense to us if we were not covered. I am truly grateful, as I know that so many Americans do not have health insurance, much less prescription medicine coverage. The anxiety those parents must feel when the need to purchase drugs, just to make their child well, interferes with what? Putting food on the table?

When I got home from the store, I immediately went to Wegman's website (stores are located in Maryland, New Jersey, New York, Pennsylvania, and Virginia) and found the details of their offer so I may share them with my readers, who may not be aware, but can totally benefit from this generous contribution.

"Cough and cold season is tough, but so are these trying times. That’s why from now until March 31, you can get your prescription for oral antibiotics filled with absolutely no cost to you when you use your Shoppers Club card*. “We understand the economic pressures families are facing, including the rising cost of health care, which is something I’m especially concerned about,” says CEO Danny Wegman. “We hope this program will help families better cope with those expenses.” The program covers up to a 14-day supply of nine generic oral antibiotics, with no limits on the number of prescriptions that can be filled."

*Not to be combined with other offers.

How awesome is that?! Wegman's YOU ROCK!

Please click on this link to see the list of eligible antibiotics.

Whooooo Are You? Who? Who?

Did you know that it is National DeLurking Week?

What does that mean? It means that those of you that read It's A Schmitty Life, you know, all five of you, that don't normally leave me any comment love, MUST DO SO this week.

If you don't then you have to babysit all three of my kids. For a whole weekend. Oh yea, and the dog.

Okay, I'm kidding. I wouldn't leave my kids with complete strangers, so don't be getting your panties all in a bunch. Yea, you lady, I know you were all ready to report me to Children's Services and whatnot.

Plus my kids? I wouldn't subject anyone to that for a whole weekend anyway. Not even my family, much less total strangers that I might even like.

But really, if you are a reader of this here blog, leave me a comment. Let me know you are out there. Stroke my ego. Tell me what you love about It's A Schmitty Life.

And if you must, tell me what you don't like [shutter], though I must warn you, I'm fragile. Don't be too harsh, you wouldn't want me having to up my meds, would you? Those little pills are expensive!

Finally, as my way of saying thanks for humoring me, I leave you with this:

A bus stops and two Italian men get on. They sit down and engage in an animated conversation.

The lady sitting next to them ignores them at first, but her attention is galvanized when she hears one of them say the following:

'Emma come first. Den I come. Den two asses come together. I come once-a-more! Two asses, They come together again. I come again and pee twice. Then I come one lasta time.'

The lady can't take this any more, 'You foul-mouthed, sex-obsessed pig!' She retorted indignantly. 'In this country, we don't speak aloud in public places about our sex lives.'

'Hey, coola down lady, ' said the man. 'Who talkin'abouta sex? I'm a Justa Tellin my frienda how to spell ' Mississippi ','

$5.00 says you're gonna read this again!

She's Got A Language All Her Own

My daughter is famous in our house for saying words incorrectly. Although I do correct her, I find her versions absolutely adorable. I even catch myself using her darling utterances from time to time.

Like most preschool girls, she just loves her stuffed animals. She can't get enough of them. Well, except for bedtime when she is trying to stall. Then her "Stufties" are staring at her and she just, "CAN'T go to sleep, mama!" I have to turn each one around so all she sees is their "Tuckus". Okay, I'll admit, she stole that last one from me, but it sounds doubly cute coming out of her mouth.

And speaking of "Stufties", she owns at least four or five "Dognations", which are her favorite puppies. Her love for them came from watching Disney's 101 "Dognations" ~ a hundred and one times.

Oh, and just the other day, she added a new word to her long list of R.ism's.

She and T. were stapling stacks of papers together. Incidentally, it was my paper, the paper from my office, the paper I use for my business, the paper they have been told not to use, numerous times ~ at least a hundred and one. Okay, I'll stop that now.

And I wonder why my business isn't raking in the dough.

But I digress.

After T. apologized for taking my paper without permission, AGAIN, he asked me how to spell, "T.'s Picture Book."

Oh how creative!

He wrote out each letter on the cover of his stack of stolen stapled papers. R. then grabbed her pen and asked me to spell, "R.'s diarrhea."

"So I can write my secrets, mama."

I corrected her, 'cause diarrhea's not so precious, no matter who says it.

The 2009 Bloggies

It's that time of year again. Time for you, the reader, to nominate your favorite blogs in the Annual Weblog Awards. In it's ninth year, this contest is open to any weblogs that existed for a period of time during the year 2008.

Nominations are open from Monday, January 1, 2009 until Monday, January 12, 2009. After nominations close, 200 randomly selected voters will receive an invitation to choose the finalists from a list of the most-nominated weblogs in ten random categories. On Thursday, January 22, the finalists are announced and voting reopens to all to choose the winners.

There are approximately 30 categories for you to list your favorite blogs in. I entered my favorite blogs the other day; Wiping Up Snot, Magneto Bold Too!, Attack of the Redneck Mommy, Just Eat Your Cupcake, and of course Our BlubHer Overhaul (Best Group Weblog) just to name a few.

So go on over, nominate a few hidden gems, get them recognized. And if it happens to be It's A Schmitty Life, I will lurve you forevah! (I kid, I KID! Seriously, I heart you all, no matter who you nominate!)

The 9th Annual Weblog Awards
The 2009 Bloggies

Not His Forté

T. received a belated birthday gift today. It was the game Hyper Jump. To play, the computerized voice calls out a number or color, and you have to step on the appropriate target as fast as you can.

Like most toys, this required some minimal assembly; battery installation and attaching the air tubes and targets to the base. Simple enough.

T. ran into the living room with his new game, placed it on the floor, set up the game options, and hit go.

"Orange!" the voice called. T. immediately stepped on the orange target.

"Bleeeeeppppp! Orange!" sounded the base. Again he stomped on the orange target. Again we heard the same sequence. Over and over and over, again.

After 15 minutes of resetting the game and having the exact thing happen, I asked T., "Did daddy put this together for you?"

"Uh-huh."

I looked at the box, not EVEN the instructions, and saw the problem. The targets were in the wrong order. I made a few adjustments and restarted the game.

BINGO! It worked perfectly. I just giggled.

Mr. Schmitty NEVER, EVER puts things together in our house. I won't let him.

It all started when we were first married. We lived at my in-laws in an apartment on the second floor of their house. They didn't charge us any rent so periodically we would buy them a nice gift as our way of saying thanks.

One summer day we purchased a new propane grill. Mr. Schmitty called me at work, early in the day, to tell me that he had gotten it. He said he would put it together and when I got home at 6 o'clock we could grill and have dinner with his parents.

I told him that sounded great. Heh. Little did I know.

When I got home from work, he was still in the yard with only two pieces put together. Mr. Schmitty had a drill in his hand and was preparing to drill a hole in one of the larger metal pieces.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"I have to drill a hole for this screw to go in." He replied.

"NO! NO!" I yelled, "Everything is pre-drilled! That piece doesn't go there!"

Needless to say we at take-out that night. The next day I put the grill together. In about an hour.

He, for whatever reason, didn't actually read the owner's manuals. So, from that point forward, I have been the one to construct all furniture, toys, and baby items.

I've got enough stress in my life without worrying about wheels popping off strollers or bunk beds caving in.

It's A B*tch

I've always believed in Karma. I truly think that, "What goes around, comes around" and when all is said and done; we reap what we sow.

I strive to live an honorable life. I am not perfect. Not by a long shot. I do, however, try to act with kindness. I take the feelings of others into account in everything I do or say. I always make every attempt to do the right thing. I am never intentionally mean spirited.

I believe I am a good person.

Most people I cross paths with seem to be, as well. But there are a few; the selfish, self-centered few, that slowly chip away at the goodness. They can suck the life right out of you. Time and time again they prove to only care about their happiness. What makes their life easier. They don't seem to understand the dynamic that is give and take. They have only mastered the take.

I try to get past it. I try to let go. I give them chance after chance after chance. And just when I begin to see some light, they pull the rug out from under my feet, yet again.

They infuriate me with their sense of entitlement. They frown down from their pedestals as though everyone in their life is beneath them. Time and time again they exhibit disrespect and thoughtlessness.

It hurts.

So, why is it that Karma has given me the shaft while bestowing the best of everything on these few? I don't wish harm on anyone, but why is their Karma not coming back to bite them in the ass? Why does the balance seem to be a askew and why must the good around them continue to tolerate their inconsiderate behavior?

How much must be endured? Tell me; when is enough, enough?

And The Winner Is........

Christine from The Bean Blog!

Her entry of "Whatta Man" by Salt 'N Pepa (featuring En Vogue) pulled in 40.7% of the votes.

Congratulations Christine!

Please email me your address at aschmittylife(at)aol(dot)com so I can send your prize of a $25.00 iTunes Gift Card!

I'd like to send out a big thank you everyone who participated, it was a fun way to begin the new year!

Happy 2009!