Our Family Has Grown By 4 Feet....And A Tail

This is my beautiful daughter, with our new family pet, whom we adopted from the ASPCA. Izzy is 4 months old and the sweetest kitten in the world. She is very calm and affectionate. She came home this afternoon and is as in love with the kids, as they are with her. She is confined to the boy's room for a few days until she is more comfortable. As you can imagine, the boys are completely THRILLED with the arrangement!! (As I'm typing this, Izzy is curled up in bed with W. and they are both fast asleep.)

We are sloooooooowly introducing Ruby and Izzy. A few, supervised moments at a time. This may take a while.

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.

I've Got Competition

I'm not going to take this lightly. It seems that a certain female is trying to come between Mr. Schmitty and I.

A younger, fairer haired charmer wants my man all to herself. I've found strands of her soft locks on his clothing. I have witnessed first hand the way she looks at him; with those pleading, sad brown eyes of hers.

Her feelings are so blatantly obvious. Even a stranger can't mistake the hold my husband has over her. She becomes openly upset when he leaves her presence. And comes alive again upon his return.

I've never doubted my husband's loyalty. I have known for over sixteen years that I am his only true love.

However, lately, I'm not so sure.

He seems to spend more and more time with her. Doing so has only strengthened her desire to be with him. Where ever he is, she is never too far behind; like a stalker in heat.

The fighter is me is drawing the line in the sand and laying down the law.

No more jumping into my seat the second I get up, just so you can snuggle up next to him. No more lying on his dirty shirts, only to growl at me when I need to do laundry. No more sitting at his feet and whining at me because he is giving me a back rub and not paying attention to you. And I get to say hello first when he comes home from work!

Now back off Ruby, he's mine, BITCH!

Don't Swallow Your Gum!

My daughter LOVES bubble gum. I am constantly finding her rifling through my purse looking for the pack of Trident. She chomps away at it like a pro. She reminds me of a gum cracking waitress from the '50s. Or a cow chewing it's cud.

Mr. Schmitty bought her a pack of her very own at the grocery store. Darn those candy displays at the checkout.

I did not know she was in possession of this pack of gum, not until I began to find the wrappers, like a trail, to her room. After making her hand over the remaining pieces, I told her that she is only allowed to chew ONE piece at a time. I explained that I would hold on to her gum and that if she wanted some, she needed to ask.

I left her room and walked into my bedroom. Here I found shreds of foil, along with an apparently chewed up gum wrapper.

RUBY!

Thus, another reason that R. should not be allowed to "hold on" to her own package of gum. She leaves it on the coffee table and on the rug in the living room. She might as well put it in the dog's food bowl.

I called R. and T., as he can have a tendency to leave things lying around too, to my computer. I told them that they needed to be more careful with their things and to make sure to put them in their places. Especially food like items. I showed them the half eaten wrappers and then told them that I needed to show them something.

I pulled up a picture on the Internet and said, "This is what happens when you swallow gum. I'm not sure if Ruby actually ate any gum, but we don't want this to happen to her if she farts, do we?"


Their eyes got big and their faces took on a mixture of concern and amusement. I'm sure they were contemplating whether or not I was pulling their leg.

I then pulled up this next picture. I pointed to each word on the poster and read it out loud. T. and R. looked at each other. Could this really happen?


I do believe they will keep track of their gum from now on.

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.

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.

Next Time I'll Buy Them A Stuffed Animal

We purchased one of those Intex Metal Frame pools for the yard. It's 18' X 48", so it's a nice size. On Saturday we measured off the area for the pool and Mr. Schmitty took a shovel and dug the shape of a circle. We need to level off the area, as our yard is very bumpy and on a slight incline, so the pool doesn't collapse. While he did this, I cleaned out the shed, which was a huge mess. A thunderstorm rolled in right after the circle was formed so we needed to pack it in. It now looks like a UFO landed in our backyard.

We were too tired and hot to make dinner and the troops were getting cranky. We decided to go to a local diner. On the way there I saw something in the middle of the road. It was a box turtle! I told Mr. Schmitty to go back and save it before someone ran it over. We almost had.

Of course, the kids started to scream yell whine ask politely if they could keep the turtle as a pet. Why not? I remember finding one as a child and having it for a while. I told them that we could keep it for the summer only and as long as they took good care of it. When school started, I told them that it would need to go back to the woods, near where we found it. They agreed. But seriously, who am I kidding? We know it will be a nightmare when it needs to go back in September. But these are the Days Of Our Lives.

By the time we had gotten it back home, the kids had already decided on the name Cooper. Mr. Schmitty and I really wanted to call it Dunlop because we almost ran it over with our new Dunlop tire, but we were overruled. Mr. Schmitty placed it in a large bucket with the clumps of grass he had dug up for the pool. That came it handy, didn't it? What great timing that Cooper has, such a super smart turtle!

We went out to dinner and W. made sure to save the veggie garnishes for our new boarder. When we returned, the Italian Ice truck was down the street. All of the neighborhood kids were there and after everyone got their treats, my kids invited them all to see their new pet.

After the kids ran to my house, one of my neighbors said, "You know turtles can carry salmonella."

WHAAAAAT?!

He nodded and two other neighbors agreed. CRAP! This is what I get for reading blogs instead of the news.

I took off for the house, "STOP! Put the turtle down and step away from the bucket!"

I shooed everyone in the house and made them all scrub their hands raw wash thoroughly. I then whipped out the antibacterial gel, just to make sure there weren't any trashes of Cooper germs left. I told them all to stop complaining that their raw skin now burned go back to eating their ice before it melted.

Later on, I told my kids that they could not touch the turtle anymore and explained why. After some drama, a look up on the internet to prove I wasn't lying because, "I'm such a mean mommy and I would purposely let them bring home the turtle just to take it away again," and some hugs, the turtle was released back into the wild.

Poor kids, things are so different for them. They can't be kids, like we were. No turtles because they carry disease. No licking the cake batter because you'll get sick. No playing in traffic because you might be run over. What?! Only my parents allowed that?

I came to the realization that we just don't have any luck with animals. First the fish, which by the way, I just received a check, two days ago, in the amount of $52.00 with an apology letter from PetCo. Yea me!

I'm sticking with dogs. Though after this episode, Ruby was almost sent back to Ohio.

A Troublemaker's Timeline

The following post is what happens when you leave a three year old girl, who seems to be going through a monster faze, a pile of french fries, with ketchup, of course, and a seven month old puppy, that just loves said girl, especially when she has food, in a room for a few minutes ~ ALONE. (Okay, okay, so I had a brain fart)

2:06 pm: I leave R. at the dining room table with her french fries. R. is eating happily while watching Spongebob's "The Best Day Ever".

2:09 pm: As I am checking my business email, I hear Mr. Schmitty yell, "You'd better get up here!"

2:10 pm: We are cleaning up french fries, that Ruby is desperately trying to scoff down, that were dumped on the living room rug, "Because Ruby likes french fries!"


2:12 pm: Mr. Schmitty is bathing the pooch because, "Look Mama, I finger painted Ruby with the ketchup!"


2:13 pm: I am striping down my little Picasso because her new, cute, pink skort and top looks like she hemorrhaged in it. She also needs to get into the tub, for the second time today, because her arms are completely smeared with the remainder of the ketchup, "Just like sunblock!"


2:21 pm: I take a clean R. out of the tub and wrap her in a towel. She begins fighting me as I try to put on her clean clothes.

2:27 pm: I give up the fight and tell her to put on her own damn clothes.

2:29 pm: I leave the room, yet again, for only moments so I can try to save her outfit. I throw the outfit into the washing machine and return to the living room. The room is vacant, the clean clothes are in a heap on the floor.

2:32 pm: I begin the search.

2:33 pm: I find a naked R. in the upstairs bathroom, she is laughing hysterically. She is sitting in a pile of this:


2:34 pm: I begin talking to myself and wonder if I should begin drinking even though it's before 5:00 pm.

2:37 pm: I practically pin R. to the floor and as I get pummeled with fists and feet, I manage to get her dressed.

2:45 pm: I hand off the devil child to Mr. Schmitty, give him a kiss on the cheek, and apologize.

2:46 pm: I leave the room and hide in my cave office.

2:49 pm: I begin searching Google. I make a great discovery. I'm seriously considering an investment into these Papoose Boards. Look, they have sizes for all the Schmitty kids! The day may not be a total loss.



2:50 pm: Yes Spongebob, it just may be "The Best Day Ever!" after all.

The Laughs Just Keep Coming

Sometimes, I swear our daily happenings can be turned into a sitcom. We always seem to have chaos running amok or some sort of situation or crisis. I'm so glad we have a sense of humor or else we'd lose our minds.

As you all know 4 out of 5 in the Schmitty household are sick. Not just a cold sick, but some sort of evil germ is trying to wipe us out. It's a very, VERY, nasty bug. We are lying around like lumps of dog poo.

And speaking of dog poo, as if I don't have a hard enough time trying to raise three kids, we get this bright idea to add a puppy. Now, don't get me wrong, I'm glad we did and we absolutely ADORE her. But as Murphy's Law would have it, we have to get a puppy and come down with the plague.

So picture this. The other night I'm in the bathroom, again, door wide-open, because I have not one shred of dignity left. W. is in the downstairs shower screaming that he's, "DOOOONE!" At almost 9 years old you would think he'd stop being afraid of being by himself in the house. We have a split level house and he freaks if he's on a level of it alone. He's continually yelling that he's done showering. I obviously can't do anything about it. Then I hear T. in the hallway.

"EWWWWW!" I know what that means. Ruby. Again.

I then hear R., "Mommy Ruby pooped and it smells!"

"Well, now you know what your diapers are like!" I reply.

She walks into the bathroom and pukes at my feet.

Oh.For.The.Love.Of.God!

Our Home Has Grown By 4 Feet

Well, she's here! Little Miss Ruby. She flew here from Ohio on Thursday and Mr. Schmitty picked her up from the airport. He called when he was about three minutes from the house and I got the kids all ready. I told them to sit on the floor and be still. I thought she might be nervous and I didn't want them to freak her out.

Mr. Schmitty came in and placed her on the floor. The pictures we saw of her did her absolutely NO justice. She was more cute than I imagined! I swear she is the most adorable puppy I have ever seen! She ran right over to the kids, tail wagging, and jumped up to kiss all of their faces. She is so sweet and friendly.



Here are a few moments from the weekend with the new addition:

1. T. "Mommy, Ruby is pooping on the living room floor! Ewww...it looks like toothpaste is being squeezed out!"

2. R. is crying.

"What's the matter honey?"

"Ruby keeps stealing my sock!"

The puppy completely pulled her sock off of her while she was standing and ran away with it!

3. Besides potty training a puppy we are still potty training R. Mr. Schmitty was putting her pull-up on and said, "Now remember R., if you have to go potty, don't forget to go outside."

4. I sometimes tell Mr. Schmitty that I get a little baby tug every so often. Not that I am going to have any more kids, the baby factory is definitely closed. But you know, that pull in your heart that makes you miss when they were infants. The first night Ruby was here, well, the kids kinda drove me crazy. I know they were excited and all but it was very chaotic. After they went to bed the puppy curled up in my lap and fell to sleep. Mr. Schmitty asked me, "Will she do to satisfy your baby cravings?" I replied, "Actually, I was thinking of putting the kids up for adoption and getting 2 more puppies."