My oldest turned 19, last week <—– seeing that in writing makes the fact that I am now a mother of a 19 year old all the more WHAT DO YOU MEAN I AM A MOTHER OF A 19 YEAR OLD <—– seeing that in UPPERCASE pretty much sums up what I feel about THAT, in a nutshell.
One of the reasons I started blogging….back in the days of when posting pictures of your kids on the internet was bad and way before those same kids started posting pictures (and videos) of themselves….on the internet….was my being able to connect with other parents on the internet.
I still do, but now that my kids are older (me too, dammit!) it can be real difficult keeping stuff all lighthearted….most especially, here at This Full House of extreme hormonal imbalance and severe teenage angst….sometimes.
Okay, most of the time.
Fiiiiiiiine, I sort of get why really, really, really old people (you know, folks much, much, much older than me) are crazy. Their kids made them that way.
Then, they dress up their pets and buy them organic food and stuff and maybe one day I will be that crazy cat or dog lady, too.
Just, NOT TODAY!
For example: Doofus-Dawg has this funny way of thumping his tail when he's in the middle of…well…what I imagine to be a real kick-ass dream.
[thump-thump-thump-thump-thump]
Aaaaaand, then the kick-ass-ness gets real intense and the thumping gets quicker.
[thumpity-thump-thumpity-thump-thumpity-thump]
Then the dream goes full on…SQUIRREL!!!!!
[THUMPTHUMPTHUMP-THUMPITY-THUMPTHUMPTHUMP]
No lie. This time, I happened to have my phone charging while working at the desktop and I hear: thump-thump-thump-thump-thump.
So, I grabbed my cell phone and then, sure as you'll find hairballs under our couch, secured my rightful place in parenting hell:
You see? Et tu Doofus-Dawg? Totally made a total liar out of me. The REAL funny part is he came right back and marched his hairy butt straight to the couch.
Normally, Doofus-Dawg isn't allowed on the couch. This time, I made an exception, because I am nothing if NOT inconsistent with my parenting skillz, too.
Besides, those are my son's clothes….he never did take them upstairs, like I told him to, this morning….and, well, the clothes are going to end up on the floor…eventually…or my son will throw them back into the hamper…clean or not, who cares?…anyway.
Aaaaand then feed me strained carrots….eventually…but NOT today…DAMMIT!
© 2003 – 2012 This Full House
Just so you know, I am also a featured blogger for Hallmark (yeah, I don't HOW that happened either) and just wanted to let you know that I've got a freshly-brewed blog post up today over on Gone Shopping about how celebrating Christmas in July may not be such a bad idea, afterall.
Feel free to stop on by and check it out…when you have time…of course!
© 2003 – 2012 This Full House
If you were to visit my house, on any given day, you would most likely be very surprised to hear any one of my daughters singing…by herself or altogether…in Korean…and my son begging me or his father to…PLEASE, MAKE THEM STOP!!!
Not that my son has anything against the Korean. Or any other language, really. Although, I have it on good authority that his Spanish teacher may or may not have made a pact with the devil.
Teenagers can be SO weird about stuff, sometimes.
Which brings me back to all three of my daughters and their long-time obsession with K-pop (a.k.a. Korean pop music) more specifically, the boy group Big Bang.
Ask my daughters something in Korean…g'head…and they will NOT have ANY idea what you are saying. Ask them to recite the lyrics to one of Big Bang's songs…fuhghettaboutit…they will give you twenty.
So, when my oldest learned that Big Bang's Alive tour was coming to the United States in L.A. and Newark here in Jersey…ONLY!!!…well, cover your ears…SQUEEEEEE!!!!
She woke up super early on her day off (before noon, she's 18, enough said) the day the tickets went on sale and right when she was about ready to hit PURCHASE…GAHHHHH!!!
Her latop shutdown after performing an automatic update.
After belting out a few choice words in, well, I'm still not quite sure WHAT language Holly was speaking (best guess, a mashup between Korean and Jersey-pissed) but I do know that she has since disabled automatic updates.
She was able to score two tickets (one for herself and one for my middle girl, much to the chagrin of her youngest sister, but let's not go back there, okay?) they weren't as great as the first set of tickets, pre-reboot…[insert Korean expletive, here]…however, sixth row-right-of -stage-something-or-another was deemed more than adequate and totally within SQUEE-ing distance to K-pop nirvana.
Flash-forward to last night: so the girls stayed up ALL night making their own t-shirts for…SQUEE!!!…the concert (even let their baby sister in on their revelry) and life was good.
Until, Garth (not his real name) came downstairs this morning and found one of his good t-shirts, newly fringed.
In their defense, they did ask…while he was asleep…and, yes, they learned from the best…YO!!!
Flash-forward to this afternoon: I dropped the girls, along with their two bff's, in front of the Prudential Center in Newark (literally, pulled up and kicked them out at the curb, it's how we roll in Jersey) and the lines were THIS LONG already.
My cell phone rang about 5:00 p.m., it was my oldest.
"Hey Holly, are you okay,what's wrong, are the girls okay?"
It's their first REAL concert, can you tell?
"Yeah, just wanted to tell you that we finally got inside."
Welcome to concerthood, my young padawan. We chatted a bit and then I made the mistake of asking her if they had someting to eat.
"No, and that's a REAL funny story."
Long story, short (you're welcome) the merchandise carts are very near the entrance and who knew that they actually sold food on a whole OTHER level?!?
"We sort of ran out of money."
Actually, they had a dollar. Aaaaand, I did what (I'm pretty sure) ANY parent would do. I asked that really STUPID question.
"So, what DID you spend the money on?"
[one beat, two beats]
Uh-huh…T-SHIRTS!!!!…dammit…or 젠장 (jen-jang) if you're from Korea!!!
© 2003 – 2013 This Full House
WITH A GREAT BIG SHOUT-OUT TO MY DEAR FRIEND MELISA: THANKS SO MUCH FOR YOUR AWESOME GUEST POST WHILE WE WERE HURRICANE-ING!
A week ago, at this very moment, I posted a semi-lighthearted Facebook status — something about my husband Garth (not his real name) going out and hunting down donuts before we all go Amish for the next few days — having lived in the Bayshore area of New Jersey all our lives, we are no strangers to storms.
Truth be told, considering Hurricane Irene ripped us a new one a little over a year ago, my husband and I were more than just a little concerned about our roof riding out the projected monster of a storm known as Hurricane Sandy (a.k.a. #Frankenstorm, #Blizzicane and/or #Snor'eaterscane).
Our house loses power whenever the town burps or hiccups (see also: FUBAR) so, stocking up on can goods, batteries, candles, lots of ice and Ibuprofen (okay, that last one was for me) is pretty much the norm.
I continued posting snarky stuff on Twitter too, like: whoever came up with #Frakenstorm is most likely NOT from Jersey, better known as #Frigginstorm.
Or, contrary to what some folks believe about NJ, how I did NOT plan on being very warm and/or welcoming…sorry, Sandy.
Then the lights went out, we lost ALL contact with the outside world and stuff in our town started blowing up.
Well, hello!
It's me, Melisa. I'm guest-posting for Liz today on account of the fact that she's not sure when she'll have internet again, and she wanted everyone to know that she and her family are fine.
Let me back up a bit, first.
As you are well aware if you are a regular reader of This Full House, Liz lives in New Jersey. In fact, it won't surprise you–due to the fact that she has been experiencing some, shall we say, not-so-good fortune this year–that Hurricane Sandy was heading right for her town. (Probably her house: let's be honest.)
In our phone conversations last week (There were many: we talk all the time.), Liz was getting a little nervous about the storm but was totally into hurricane preparedness: she was purchasing supplies, cooking the food she had in the freezer, and doing laundry so she might possibly escape what happened when they had no water earlier this year.
Garth (NHRN) was even up on the roof with his caulk gun (ahem), sealing everything up in preparation for the storm. Liz and I often discuss how awesome it is to be married to "manly men", and you can call us traditional in this regard if you want, but we think it is totally HAWT to see our guys fixing stuff and taking care of things around the house. HAWT.
Wait…where was I?
Oh yeah. The storm. ANYWAY…
Liz and I got in one last phone call before the heavy winds started to blow, and resorted to texting after that. I tried to make her laugh because I knew she was freaking out a bit while trying to keep it together for the kids. This exchange was a personal favorite:
Me: "Take cleansing breaths as if you were in labor. Hee hee HOO. Hee hee HOO. (Not to be confused with HOO-HA, which is a different thing altogether.) By the way, tell Garth (NHRN) 'NO HURRICANE BABIES.'"
Liz: "Hurricane babies, now I'm cry-laughing and throwing up in my mouth a little bit."
That's what I was going for, actually.
Anyway, after eventually receiving some terrifying texts about how badly the house was shaking and that transformers were blowing up in her town and lighting up the night sky, I was sufficiently worried. Then the texts stopped coming. Though I was clearly in a more comfortable situation here in the Chicago suburbs, what with electricity and cell phone service and such, as a control freak it was driving me batty, not knowing what was going on and if they were okay.
It was also driving me batty, not being able to talk to her on the phone. WITH her, I should actually say, because I started leaving her voicemail messages every couple of hours. Some were funny, some were just checking in, and one was panicky. That last one was early this morning, when I suddenly realized that Liz might not have access to her caw-fee during this ordeal, and I was struck with a weird sort of terror on her behalf. About coffee. I know: shut up.
Naturally, when I went upstairs this morning for FOUR MINUTES so I could get dressed, I missed a call from Liz.
I WAS GONE FOR FOUR MINUTES. Her timing was impeccable.
I called her back and it went right to voicemail, and I thought I would lose my mind until she tried me again just a couple of minutes later. When I picked up, we shrieked together for a full ten seconds, completely giddy that we finally connected after a really, really, REALLY long time (okay, it was just a few days but in internet time it was practically FOREVER.).
Long story short (You're welcome!) (I get it from Liz.), Liz and family are doing just fine. After days without power, cell phone service, and internet (yikes!), everyone is getting along and they haven't killed each other. Liz's parents and in-laws are fine, too. Garth's (NHRN) work on the roof with that caulk gun of his gave the house the extra protection it needed and it only sustained minor damage that Liz says is cosmetic in nature. They aren't sure when the lights will be back on, but as we were talking on the phone an electric company truck pulled up. It wasn't there long but I'm guessing they were assessing the area and will be back to start work soon.
So there's your update, This Full House readers! Liz is missing the blog and all of you, and will be back just as soon as she can.
And Hurricane Sandy? You can #suckit.
Having lived in Jersey all of my life, I feel it safe to say that we East Coasters are used to freakish weather, experiencing all 4 seasons, sometimes ALL in the same day.
This week, however, I am pretty convinced that surviving the Zombie Apocalypse has got nuh'thin' on the monster that is Hurricane Sandy.
Thanks to the Weather Channel, I now have apocalyptic catch phrases running around in my head like: #Frankenstorm, #Blizzicane and my personal favorite: #Snor'eastercane.
Sounds like a friggin' hybrid holiday, yes?
So, in an effort to get Jim Cantore out of my head (dude, it's way too crowded up there already) I present to you, Twas The Night Before #Snor'eastercane:
Not for nothing, but we used to do holidays BIG here at This Full House of crunchy floors and stinky socks, sometimes decorating months in advance.
Actually, I may or may not have forgotten to take down last year's [insert upcoming holiday, here] decorations and, well, a few months more and I'd have to dig them out again anyway, right?
Then life happened and holidays just sort of started going all #FUBAR, for one reason or twenty.
Halloween 2007: I carved the pumpkin way too early and, well, it was gross and swarming with gnats by the end of the month. So, I just left it out and pretended…yeah, sure…we meant for it to look all gross, just in time for Halloween!
2008 will forever go down as the bloodiest Halloween, EVUH: when my middle girl's butt exploded, literally and we'll just go ahead and skip right over 2009, if you don't mind, m'kay?
Halloween 2010 was the last time all 4 of my kids went pumpkin hunting, together: because, clearly, I was the only one having fun.
This time, last year? I was positively morose. My youngest was graduating 5th grade and, well it was my baaaaaaayyyyyybeeeeeeeee's LAST Halloween parade.
Although I did remember to bring my camera, I totally FORGOT to check the stupid sd card. #dumbass
Wait! Here is a really cute picture of Hope (and Glen) from I don't remember when.
"Are we going to put up any Halloween decorations, this year?"
Ugh. Right. So, I can't help but feel like my youngest daughter is getting the short end of [enter upcoming holiday, here].
"Right now, want to help?"
So, last Sunday, Hope and I hit the Dollar Store for some last-minute…is THAT realy all we got for Halloween…stuff and took to task getting our house looking all fall-ish and festive-like.
Hope and I got it ALL up and Halloween-ish by the time my two oldest girls got home from work later that afternoon.
I know, it's not like it's going to win an award or anything and, truth be told, my neighbors probably won't even really notice the difference, from any other day. Still. Hope and I had a really great time and we may or may not have gotten a little carried away with the spider webbing.
"The spiders are going to have a party!"
Good. One less decoration to worry about, right?!? In fact, throw in a couple of red and green hats, a few jingle-y bells and we've got us some pumpkin elves.
What?!? I sort of like the idea of our being the Nightmare Before Christmas House, right?!? RIGHT?!?
[sound of crickets, chirping]
Whatever. Eat your heart out, Martha!
[blanke stare]
Martha Stewart, I mean, not Jenn @TheNextMartha <—- that woman OWNS Halloween!
© 2003 – 2012 This Full House
When my sister-in-law asked me if I would walk with her at the Making Strides Against Breast Cancer event in Point Pleasant Beach, two thoughts immediately came to mind:
I've been taking my kids to Jenkinson's boardwalk since they were babies and, more importantly, with my sister-in-law's recent scare and my twin brother facing yet another surgery (next week) I am always up for the chance to kick cancer's ass…anywhere…b*tch…ANYTIME!…Jersey style.
While the rest of my family was all…like…ummmm…that's really, really great…but…uhhhh…you do realize that…you know…walking will be involved.
3.1 miles to be exact and, although a lot of folks I know run a 5k before breakfast, it seems my borked-up back has compromised my already less than graceful walking skills.
Tripping over air is one thing (which I am very good at, btw), gravity getting all stabby once my foot hits the ground the wrong way can be real gosh-darned inconvenient.
Then again, I have seen way too many of my family and friends suffer through the bitch that is cancer. Judging by the awesome turnout, who showed on perhaps the most beautiful Sunday in the record of Sundays in October, we were ALL looking to kick some cancer-ass.
On this particular day, everyone's signature color was pink and it was SO difficult for me to NOT stare at that dude up there (although, dude, think of it as my admiring your awesomeness) or not wonder about the story, behind the beard.
The t-shirts, that was another story, multiplied by the thousands: pictures of loved ones captioned with
declarations of eternal remembrance and hundreds upon hundreds of teams, helping to raise money for the cause,
rallying on for those who continue to fight, made this for a truly bittersweet experience.We continued to walk, mostly in silence, sometimes talking all at once, as I pointed out our favorite spots on the beach or the stands where the kids and I first discovered fried Oreos and zeppoles.
Around mile 2 a beautiful monarch butterfly appeared to follow along with the crowd, dipping and weaving gracefully over a sea of pink, now stretching out in front of us for as far as our eyes could see.
My sister-in-law and I turned to each other, smiled and agreed: it was most probably someone's loved one, rooting them on.
My cell phone did not make it to mile 3 (damnit!) BUT I DID!!! Considering I had 17,000 of my fellow-Jerseyites to lean on, how could I not?!?
This morning, I received a text message from my sister-in-law: co-worker walked w/team yesterday in honor of her friend's mom who died from breast cancer. Symbol for the mom is a butterfly.
Enough said.
© 2003 – 2012 This Full House
I'm not a very patient person: when it comes to making stuff work right (the first 20 times) or whenever I get it into my head to do something, it's either NOW or…SQUIRREL!!!
[stares blankly out window, scratches behind ear]
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!
Oh yeah, and I seemed to have picked up another habit from my husband, Garth (not his real name): feeling the need to locate and then identify unexplained noises around the house because…OMG!…WHAT IS IT with all the BEEPING this morning?!?
"It's Hope's cell phone."
Which is actually Garth's (NHRN) old cell phone. Because it's old (in cell phone years) and continually beeps whenever a text message goes unanswered. Which is one of the reasons why he got a new one because…OMG!!! THE BEEPING!!!
Now that I think on it some more, I'm really the only person who texts him, continually. Seriously, don't you HATE IT when your text messages go unanswered?!?
[sound of crickets chirping]
Aaaaaanyway, he picks up Hope's cell phone and proceeds to read the message (she's 11, enough said):
"Hope my mom took phone away I just got it back."
It was from one of her "guy" friends (gahdfuhbid you call him a boyfriend) and, although he did not scroll through the rest of the messages (just in case Hope is reading this, right now!), we could JUST imagine the context of the conversation:
SNORT! That last one was Garth's (NHRN) idea and that's when my husband came up with the perfect catchphrase to describe our youngest daughter.
"Hey, that would make a pretty good blog post title."
I realize that most folks probably won't consider this conversation even a quarter as funny as we did this morning, however, far be it from me to miss an opportunity of increasing
my "Break curfew again and I'll show your boyfriend my blog," arsenal.
"Aaaand, I want credit for it too!"
So be it.
[see blog post title]
PHEW! I am SO GLAD that it's NOW out of my…SQUIRREL!!!
© 2003 – 2012 This Full House