This Full House Archive

Author: Liz@ThisFullHouse

#Blogust: Leave a Comment, Save a Child, Enough Said.
This post is my contribution to the United Nations Foundation's Shot@Life Blog Relay for #Bloglust: 31 bloggers, one each day in August, are writing about people from our communities who have inspired us.

TODAY, IT'S MY TURN TO HELP: EVERY SINGLE COMMENT LEFT ON THIS BLOG POST RAISES $20 TO HELP SAVE THE LIFE OF A CHILD IN NEED.

Here's my story: I started blogging back in 2003 (when blogging was still in diapers) to connect with other parents, share stories and feel a little less disconnected with life outside my front door, beyond all the dust bunnies and diapers.

It was a different time, social media was in its infancy and success was measured by how THRILLED someone felt whenever someone else (besides their mother) actually read and/or took the time to leave a comment on a blog post.

Not many people in my real life knew I blogged and those who did seemed troubled by my writing into all hours of the night: as a mother of four young children, I should be sleeping.

Still, I continued to share my stories, kept up with online friends on my blogroll, laughed along with them, offered a sympathetic ear, an empathetic virtual {{{hug}}} or participate in a meme (or twenty) and maybe even share a blog post that moved me in some way.

The internet continued to grow and, not unlike my kids, the blogosphere experienced its fair share of growing pains. It seemed as if a new controversy would arise with each passing year and I tried, really hard, to focus on my tagline instead: helping to make OTHER mothers feel a little better about themselves, since 2003.

Today? Social media has EXPLODED as new online communities continue to evolve on sites like Facebook, Twitter, Instagram and Pinterest (to name a few of my favorites) and while I also contribute to these forums (turns out, so do A LOT of my friends and neighbors IRL) they are but a small snapshot, a teaser if you will, of the stories I continue to share here on my blog.

Sadly, many of my longtime online friends are questioning their place on the internet and some folks are even considering the fact that perhaps it is time to step away from blogging: truth be told, me too.

As a mom of teens and tweens, I too can't help but wonder: is anybody really listening? Does anyone still read blogs anymore?

Until, I received this comment on a recent post (entitled "My Kids Think I'm a Stupid Mommyblogger, I Prefer the Term Family Chronicler" ironically enough) from one of my newer blogging friends, Tracie:Thank you, Tracie. You will NEVER know how much I needed to hear this, right now…OH, WAIT!…I just did, okay, NOW you know 🙂

It's folks like you (yes, YOU!) who continually inspire me to contribute to my online community in the best way I know how: by sharing my stories, hopefully, helping to make OTHER mothers (and dads) feel a little better about themselves and THANK YOU SO MUCH for the reminder, my friend.

Okay, now it's YOUR turn. Want to help save a child in need? EXCELLENT!!!

All you have to do is leave a comment on this post:
- Tell us a little about someone who supported or inspired you
- Share a story about a meaningful comment someone made to you
- Or maybe even let them know about it, right here, right now
Here's the REALLY AWESOME PART: every comment left on this post will be matched with a $20 donation (up to a maximum of $200,000) I mean, really, not for nothing, but what an awesome way to help bring home the fact that comments really do matter, right?!?

Just so you know, $20 is what it costs to give one child four life-saving vaccines to help protect them against measles, pneumonia, diarrhea and polio. That's 10,000 children and we can help them ALL with a simple comment.

Yesterday, the amazing Anissa Mayhew of Free Anissa shared her story and now I'm going to hand the virtual baton over to the awesome Jenny Eckton of Formerly Phread…GO JENNY, GO!!!!

You can learn more about Shot@Life by joining their email list, following them on twitter or liking them on Facebook.

OH, AND FEEL FREE TO TELL YOUR FRIENDS AND NEIGHBORS: A child dies every 20 seconds from a vaccine preventable disease. We can ALL help stop this. Comment today, comment tomorrow on Jenny's post, heck you can comment every day, if you'd like, we'll leave the porch light on for ya!

Why?

Because comments really do count, nice matters and even old-blog-timers like me still have a story or twenty to share, just sayin'.

© 2003 – 2012 This Full House
August 16, 2012
My Kids Think I’m a Stupid Momblogger, I Prefer the Term “Family Chronicler”!

Reading between the lines: HEY, YOU KLUTZ, BEWARE!

I love it when Garth (not his real name) is home for many reasons that I won't bother you with writing a long, drawn out list or anything (you're welcome!) okay, maybe just one.

Pulling up the rear (literally!)

This week, my kids LOVED being able to hang out with their dad (besides, at the supper table or a few minutes before bedtime) as I, once again, played the role of mom blogger.

I said "G'head and do something," and I got this!

Although, I prefer the term: family chronicler (yes, it's a word, spell-check says so) the kids and Garth (NHRN) are used to me falling a bit behind (as usual) but, this time, I felt a terrible desperation to capture AND savor the moment.

The view from the top of the red trail.

I have suffered from back problems for years (car accident in my 20's, birthing 4 babies in my 30's, dumbass 40's) and it's been getting progressively worse.

Holly at the top of the red trail, YAY!

An unexpected trip to the hospital for a kidney stone this past February also confirmed 2 herniated discs in my lower back (a.k.a. 2-for-1 diagnosis…YO!) and a subsequent visit with a neurologist who is still waiting for me to, you know, show up.

Hope at the top of the red trail, ALMOST!

What?!? The man wants to shove a HUGE needle in my back…ON PURPOSE!!!…more than once and then, eventually, introduce more pointy objects into my spine that will keep me flat on my back for weeks.

Heather owning the top of the trail, YOU GO GIRL!

Yeah, I know, I know, there are worse things. Unfortunately, I have friends and family who are suffering from all sorts of physical, mental and emotional pain…as we speak…DAMNIT! So, trust me when I tell you that I am NOT looking for any sympathy, JUST because I am afraid of sharp pointy things.

He's got a smart phone and he's not afraid to use it!

I am, however, scared to death at the thought of being expected to do nothing more than lay flat on my back for weeks. There, I said it and NOT just because Garth (not his real name) will testify to the fact that I am indeed a TERRIBLE patient.

He didn't want me to wait alone, at the top of the red trail.

Apparently, I am an equally AWFUL actress. There was no hiding the fact that the 2-hour car ride had taken its toll — not to mention, attending 2 blogging conferences, in 2 of my most favorite walking cities, in 1 month — as each of my kids took turns holding my hand, clearing a path or asking me if I needed to sit down.

When did they get to be THIS BIG?!?

Not for nothing, but it broke my heart. Kids today have enough to worry about — I have teenagers, trust me, I know — still, my mother is scheduled for surgery this coming Monday (a long overdue shoulder replacement) but, this time she's really, really scared and, well, I finally "get it".

Look, it's the masked blog-guh!

No, I'm not the smartest, bravest or most talented person in cyberspace (seriously, I'm okay with it) however, my kids seem to like hanging out with me inspite of the fact they believe I'm stupid for not going back to the neurologist sooner.

Aaaand that's just all sorts of cool, right?!? RIGHT?!?

[sound of crickets]

Riiiiiight. Stupid back, dumbass 40's.

© 2003 – 2012 This Full House

August 11, 2012
#BlogHer12: Blood, Sweat & Tears AND More Sweat

This was my 6th time attending BlogHer yet here I am again, sitting for nearly an hour in front of a blank screen, wondering "Where in the heck do I start?!?"

Yeah, I'm hanging out with Busy Mom…WHAT?!?

I could choose to begin by telling you some crazy-assed story of nearly popping a blood vessel just trying to get there, like my dear friend Busymom did, but my train ride into NYC from Jersey is less than an hour and was completely uneventful.

#PopCapMoms Afternoon Tea at the St. Regis Hotel

Or, after attending my first event shortly after arriving into NYC and drinking my weight in tea (that's A LOT of tea, btw) how I had to find a bathroom REAL BAD and was tackled by Jenn in the lobby of the hotel.

Me and Jenn scarin' the straights at MoMA

Seriously, nearly had the pee squeezed out of me, that Jenn's SUCH a good huggah! Not for nothing, but she seems to also enjoy making me pee my pants snort-laughing every blessed chance she gets, bless her heart.

9/11 Memorial: pool of tears.

There were tears, as well. This was my first visit to the World Trade Center, or downtown NYC for that matter, since the 9/11 attacks. The rain just added to the terrible feeling of loss and, personally, living just across the river, I couldn't help but reach out and want to wipe some of the wet away.

Visiting my bloggy-friend Patty.

Thankfully the happy outweighed the sad. Like visiting with Patty and her mom in Queens (gracias por las empanadas, Senora!) while she's recovering from surgery was most definitely a highlight for both me and Melisa.

With my two other roomies: Michelle and Flat Sue

Traveling the subway, in 1000 percent humidity, not so much (even the camera is all like, b*tch please!) however, traveling with Flat Sue?!? EPIC!!! Don't believe me? Check out Melisa's post Flat Sue visits #BlogHer12. Go ahead, I'll wait.

Table setting courtesy of @TheNextMartha

This year, however, stands out above all others: I was invited to sit @TheNextMartha's table during Martha Stewart's lunchtime keynote. Trust me when I tell you that my new friend Jen is ALL that and a bag of blue glitter.

Flat Sue says, "THPBBPBBPBPBPTH!!!"

I was totally honored to share the experience of MARTHA STEWART DISSING ALL THE HARD WORK THAT WENT INTO CELEBRATING PURE INSPIRATION AND JEN'S CREATIVITY ENTIRELY with her. No, really. It's okay. Glitter-envy is hard.

MMMF, I love you, you're number one!

Along with spending much needed quality time with some of my favorite people IRL (see also: Melisa's entire BlogHer12 photo stream) priceless. My stomach still hurts from all the snort-laughing and giggle-talking that went on and, well, I wouldn't trade in those moments for all the swag in the universe. Truth!

Live-blogging @readersdigest and @tasteofhome was an awesome experience.#BlogHer12

— Liz Thompson (@thisfullhouse) August 4, 2012

Then again, BlogHer is not ALL fun and games (mostly, not all) this year was a working trip for me and live-tweeting from one of BlogHer's newest sponsor's suite ALL DAY was an awesome experience that I will write about, on my other blog, at a later date.

At the MoMA: we could be related.

Or, as soon as my eyes uncross — you're welcome!!!

© 2003 – 2012 This Full House

August 7, 2012
The Descent, Jersey Style

My brother-in-law is visiting with us for a couple of days this week (yes, on purpose!) but, I wasn't surprised to learn that he really didn't have any plans to go to the beach (or down the shore, if you're from Jersey) and, considering he's lived in Southern California for the last 20+ years, can you really blame him?

So, yeah, our rocks actually do glow, you got a problem wit-dat?

Besides, there are plenty of OTHER really cool places to visit here in Jersey (ARE SO!) especially, for BIG TIME history buffs like my brother-in-law (and me) so, when he suggested we take our kids to The Sterling Hill Mining Museum I was all, like, YAY!…oh, wait:

I mean, considering our run of bad luck lately, can you really blame me?

A geologist's freakin' playground.

Seriously, I couldn't help but think of ALL the dangerous possibilities: one of us getting beaned on the head with a random piece of falling rock (okay, mostly me!) learning that the misplaced stick of dynamite was in fact SO NOT a dud, finding that one and only hole they forgot to plug up and/or re-living The Descent (be careful, link has sound and dang but that movie scared the bee's juice out of me) for real.

2,550 feet, 35 miles in length, that's a WHOLE lot of descending, you's guys!

Add being a tad claustrophobic (okay, more like DUUUUUUDE, I HATE FREAKIN' TIGHT SPACES, GETTOUTTAMYWAY!) not to mention, I am not very comfortable with the dark (seriously, have you seen The Descent?) so, actually getting out of the car and buying the tickets to tour one of the oldest mines in the United States (first worked c. 1739) was a HUGE leap of faith on my part.

Heather's reflection looks almost other-wordly.

I mean, just take a look at some of the stuff they've pulled out of this place for the last 250+ years — totally creepy, right?

So, how YOU doin'?

The museum was packed from floor to ceiling and, quite frankly, as interesting as these artifacts were, walking around displays of rocks embedded with ancient creepy-crawlies didn't help to quell my fears any (NUH-UH!) not one freakin' bit.

So pretty, right?

"Hey, look, this one looks like a heart!"

Then one of my kids would point out something really pretty and I think to myself (SELF!) fuhghettaboutit AND really, you've ridden the subway and survived, how bad could it be?!?

I'm PROUD to be able to tell you that I did INDEED survive going into the mines. Aaaaand, you'll have to take my word for it, because I was too busy holding onto the railing(s), I don't have ANY pictures to really prove it.

Of course, my kid was the ONLY one who knew and shouted out the warning, "FIRE IN THE HOLE!" She shares a bathroom with her 13 year-old brother, enough said.

Learning about the past is cool AND helps to remind us to NOT take our more modern conveniences (like electricity, YO!) for granted.

Guess what this is? G'head, I'll wait.

Oh and indoor plumbing. More specifically, toilets (see picture above) seriously, just let me hear one of my kids complain about having to share a bathroom…one more time…FIRE IN THE HOLE!!!

© 2003 – 2012 This Full House

July 31, 2012
BlogHer12: Caution, Professional Dork at Work!
Tracey, Me, Melisa and OH LOOK! It's freakin' Busy Mom at #BBSummit12!

I love traveling to blogging conferences and when people ask me, "What IS it that you do again?" I half-jokingly reply about my being a Professional Dork, by definition:
- A little odd
- Often times silly
- Extremely clumsy
- Breaks things (a lot!)
- Prone to laugh-snorting
- Jumping jack hating
- Careful to cross her legs when sneezing
- Average, every day, you just can't make this stuff up, dork of a mom
In other words: what you see is what you get and, well, it's our imperfections that make us unique…most especially, in the blogging world…yes?

That being said, I feel blessed to be able to work with some of the smartest, kindest, funniest folks I've ever had the pleasure of meeting (IRL) and touched upon this while speaking on the Blogger and Brand Relationships panel during #BBSummit12 last weekend.

I'm still working on a blog-worthy recap (soon-ish, rather than later-ish) but my friend and BlogHer12 roomie Michelle actually live-blogged the whole shuh-bang AND my sistuh-from-anuh-thuh-muh-thuh Melisa shared her experience as one of the awesome organizers, as well.

Today, I am honored to be able to share with you my partnering with Readers Digest and Taste of Home Magazine during BlogHer12.

I will be live-tweeting from the Reader's Digest BlogHer Suite #4203 as:

(more…)
July 26, 2012
So, My Kid Passes Out While Visiting Grandpa at the Hospital & Other Stories of You NEVER Know, You Know?
She's a sassy lemur.

Sooooo, I'm in my dear, sweet friend Melisa's fancy-schmancy car headed to #BBSummit12, my husband calls me on my cell phone and after 4 kids AND 20+ years of marriage — not to mention, having spent a good portion of my oldest daughter's college tuition on repair bills in just the last month or so — I sort of figured it wasn't good news.

"Are you sitting down?"

Also, Garth (not his real name) knows I'm a fainter.

"I'm here in the hospital with Hope."

My oldest daughter took Hope and picked up Grandma to visit Grandpa in the hospital (he was admitted the night before and recovering from pneumonia) and at first I was all, like, okaaaaaaay, aaaaaaand??????

"Wait, okay, so why are YOU there again?"

Long story, short (you're welcome!) here's a quick run down of the events prior to my getting on the plane:
- Wednesday: car breaks down on the way home from visiting my mom and dad (it was 99 degrees out at the time, just so you know).
- Thursday: drop car at shop, rent another car so I can get oldest daughter to and from work; yes she can drive, no not a rental; go figure.
- Friday: car won't be ready for a few days; so I go extend rental and pray for winning lottery numbers (yeah, right!)
- Saturday/Sunday: oldest kid is scheduled to work, on this particular weekend, go figure.
- Monday: pick-up car, drop off rental and get some edible food in the house in preparation for the zombie apocalypse (just kidding, sort of!)
- Tuesday: Take oldest daughter to work (I know, the car is fixed, but I'm so NOT a big fan of tempting fate) get my haircut (STAT!) pick oldest daughter up from work and then think about the possibility of packing early, because…you know…you NEVER know, right?
- Wednesday: happen to glance at calendar and realize that I have a couple of writing deadlines, HOLY CRAP, tomorrow and just knew I should have packed early.
- Thursday: son wakes up with a temperature of 103.5 (UGH, again?!?) pediatrician's office is closing early for vacation (we've been keeping her busy) so, we spend next 3 hours at urgent care (I am NOT EVEN kidding!) my butt still hurts.
- Still Thursday: get a call while at urgent care with my son that FIL was being admitted to hospital and consider packing early as being highly overrated.
Now maybe you know why I was seriously second-guessing getting on a plane, the next day, or ever, in the first place, right?

Still. My son was responding to the antibiotics and my FIL was recovering nicely (thank goodness!) so, I got packing and was super-relieved when my plane finally landed…you know…on the ground…the right way…with me STILL on it…and everything.

"Hope took one look at Grandpa and passed out."

Sooooo, my poor husband, Garth (not his real name) spent the next 7 hours with Hope, texting me updates and generally keeping me from going CRAZY with worry or convincing me NOT to take part in any activities involving the use of sharp objects and/or heavy machinery.

"Remember when you passed out that one time taking Mama to the Hospital?"

True story. I rushed my mother to the hospital during a gallbladder attack, passed out in the bathroom, tore my head open and was admitted…at the same time she was…her for an emergency gallbladder surgery and me for a concussion.

"Good thing we were BOTH in the hospital when it happened, right Mommy?!?"

Yep…she's my kid, a'ight…and I'm seriously considering taping EVERYONE ELSE up in bubble wrap, while I'm at BlogHer, next month!

Then maybe investing in a couple of sage sticks, cleansing the house with bleach (straight-up!) and perhaps even hiring an exorcist or something. You know any?

© 2003 – 2012 This Full House
July 24, 2012
Nearly Wordless Wednesday: Look Mom, I Cut My Own Hair!!!

On my the list of scariest words a parent will ever hear along with: what's ALL this hair doing in the bathroom?!?

Unless, the kid actually does a gosh-darned pretty good job of it.

She claims to have gotten tired of dealing with ALL that mermaid hair, watched about a dozen YouTube tutorials on cutting naturally curly hair and, well, I envy her confidence (and her curls) even though I'll be vacuuming hair for about a month, or twenty.

Way to go, Holls!

© 2003 – 2012 This Full House

July 18, 2012
On the Other Hand, My Build-A-Bear’s Name Would Totally Be FUBAR!

The kids and I were sitting around the kitchen table — actually, I was working on finalizing a few end of summer writing projects, while they hovered in and around my laptop, wondering out loud when, if ever, we would actually do something "fun" before school starts — while we ALL reminisced about how much fun school "used" to be.

Incredibly enough, my 13 year-old son actually admitted that he kind of liked going to school (if you have a son, especially between the ages of 10 and grown, then you know why this is so gosh-darned incredible) most especially, after I pulled him out of the car and dragged him to the curb screaming.

His gym teacher, who stood at the ready and fielded the boy to the door every morning of kindergarten, will totally back me up on this one.

"Remember the thing about Sniper Bear?"

Long story, short (you're welcome) my son also had this thing….ummmmm….okay, to try and put this as delicately as possible, so as not to scare parents of younger children….the boy could effectively turn the most benign and non-threatening object into a weapon.

"Oh yeah, I drew it in kindergarten or something."

For example: while future Martha Stewarts of the world imagined an empty paper towel roll into a rain stick or kaleidoscope….my son would fashion into a state of the art rocket launcher….complete with thermal imaging and night vision.

"Actually, it was your first in-class project for 2nd grade."

Needless to say, although I haven't found a picture of an ammo vest as perfectly described as he did in crayon, my son's bear almost didn't make it up on the wall for back-to-school night.

"Nuh-uh, I remember 'cause the class had a bathroom."

Yes, his kindergarten class had a bathroom and he remembers this for a whole other reason I won't bother going into (you're welcome, really!) because, quite frankly, I'm STILL trying to forget THAT incident.

"No, it was Mrs. H.'s class and I know for sure because I blogged about it."

I did a quick search, found it (blogged about Sniper Bear back on September 20, 2006) and read the entire blog post to them.

"OMG! I can't believe you called my teacher Mrs. Gives-a-crap-load-of-Homework!"

Actually, I blogged her as Mrs. Gives-a-shit-load-of-Homework and, well, contrary to popular opinion, I do make a concerted effort to censor myself every now and again.

"She was my favorite teacher!"

Mine, too. Although, this teacher did give a shit…I mean…crap load of homework for 2nd grade, I think (a worksheet for every subject, every night, UGH!) my son was allowed to take Sniper Bear home for a quick makeover so that she could hang Cammo Bear up on the wall in time for back-to-school night.

"Wait a minute, was that when you set the house on fire?"

[blank stare]

"In your blog post, you mentioned the dishwasher blew up or something."

Actually, it was the dryer that caught fire. The dishwasher blew up a few days before and no I did NOT set the house on fire that one time (not on purpose, anyways) and we ALL agreed that my build-a-bear would totally have been FUBAR!

Aaaaaand, now that I'm thinking on it some more, you might want to vacuum out your lint vents…every now and again…just sayin'.

© 2003 – 2012 This Full House

July 16, 2012
Call Me Craaaaaaaazy, Talk With Yous Laaaaaaaay-tuh, Maybe

Source: etsy.com via Liz on Pinterest

My parents had a telephone similar to this one — we were living in a 4 room apartment upstairs in my grandmother's house at the time — it hung on our kitchen wall and had a ridiculously long extension cord that would require untangling, by dangling the hand set and allowing it to spin, at least a couple times a day.

Which is really funny, because going into another room for a little privacy doesn't really matter much if you come from a family of LOUD TALKERS.

Somewhat related: I was working at the kitchen table yesterday (because it's summer break and we only have one computer, enough said) when my cell phone rang.

Me: Oh, it's Jenn!

Because, I have a terrible habit of thinking OUT LOUD as well.

13yo Son: So, I guess you'll be talking REAL LOUD then?!?

True story. Just ask Jenn. She's from Texas. I'm from Jersey. We sometimes have trouble understanding each other and, well, every little bit helps.

[sound of crickets, chirping]

Okay so what was I saying, oh yeah: cell phones allow us the freedom of continuing our conversations while running errands, dropping/picking up kids at school, waiting on ridiculously long check-out lines, even while taking much needed bathroom breaks (stupid ridiculously long check-out lines, dumbass bladder) and, well, I'd like to dangle some of THOSE people at least a couple times a day, too.

At the risk of shaking my cane and causing a massive load shift in body mass (you're welcome!) as my friend Jenn would say: if you choose to have a full-blown conversation out in public, or maybe even in the bathroom stall next to me, I'mma gonna contribute, bless your heart.

"So, she said….blah, blah, blah….and I said….yada, yada, yada….and she called me a so-and-so….you believe that or what?"

[clears throat]

"That's just craaaaaaaaazy!"

[dead silence]

"Here's my number….la, la, la….so, call me maybe."

[one beat, two beats]

"There's this crazy b*tch, ovuh-heh, I'll have-tuh call yuhs back!"

A little passive aggressive? Maybe. However, I live in Jersey and well they cut people here for less.

MOST ESPECIALLY in bathroom stalls…YO!

© 2003 – 2012 This Full House

July 13, 2012
She Bangs, He Bangs, We All Bang A Uey!

I drove my SIL into Massachusetts (my husband's aunt has been very ill and recovering in a nursing home) for what turned out to be a last-minute, don't-worry-we'll-just-go-ahead-and-cash-in-those-reward-points, road trip and clocked in nearly 700 miles this weekend.

Boston: Old and New

The thing with last-minute, don't-worry-etc-etc-type, road trips is that there is NEVER enough time to do ALL the things I really would like to do, whenever we do get up there.

Boston: This Way and That

Or whenevah yah up thah (if you're from Massachusetts) considering most of my husband's family lives in and around the Boston area and, well, turns out Massachusetts is a pretty big state.

Boston: Water Feature

Still, my friend Sue and her family live about 90 minutes away from where we were staying (which is about 5 hours closer than usual, btw) and, well, it took ALL my strength to keep my husband's car from veering off and following signs to Cape Cod.

I was also too busy banging u-turns (to make a change in direction when driving, in Jersey) dang, but Massachusetts signs are so gosh-dahned confusing!

Not to mention, they most likely don't teach the "keep one car-length between you and the car in front of you" rule when switching lanes, or maybe people just "saht of fahghat that paht" of the driver's test.

Boston: Church (one of many!)

Aaaaanyway, it was difficult enough leaving the kids (and my husband) home this time, considering they just about divorced me when visiting with Sue…on my bloggy little road trip, last March.

The kids, I mean, not my husband.

Garth (not his real name) MADE me go (don't believe me, ask Sue, she'll tell you) still, I couldn't help but feel a little guilty.

Not this time, tho.

Long story, short (you're welcome) I don't know of any travel site(s) that lists "Consider visiting nursing homes" as a vacation destination: i.e. one of the saddest places on earth.

Boston: My kind of place.

Still, it was nice to be able to help my SIL show her aunt's family a little support, considering I was adopted as an honorary cousin (during a girl's weekend away on Cape Cod, btw) years before my husband and I hooked up, even.

Boston: The Old Court House

We decided to drive into Boston and do a little site-seeing with my niece.

Which, of course, meant I was too busy looking up, most of the time, rather than watch where I was walking (it's drivers AND walkers to the right, right?) and it was soon after I took a picture of Ben Franklin (a tribute to our founding fathers, right next to Starbucks, yo!) when I tripped over someone's bicycle.

"Have a nice trip?"

Gosh, but I love my SIL's sense of humor (sort of!) and what IS IT with these Massachusetts people, anyways?!?

The bicyclist was trying to help an elderly gentleman in a wheelchair from off of the curb and cross to the other side of the street and, well, good thing I was NOT thinking out loud (for once) right?!?

"Can we help?"

My SIL and I each extended an arm, he grabbed both.

"Hang on a minute!"

The wheelchair was mechanical, very heavy and three more pedestrians ran over, along with the doorman from the hotel a few doors down, to help.

"On three…"

We gently sat the man back down into his wheelchair, while the doorman stopped traffic and the bicyclist followed alongside, making sure he made it safely across the street to the adjacent more wheelchair accessible sidewalk.

"Thank you guys…"

We were all shaking hands.

"…some of these streets can be real annoying."

I empathized with the doorman and admitted to banging more than a couple of U-ies already.

"Yah from Bahston then?"

Heh, must have been the Uey (a.k.a. U-turn) that brought out the Bahston.

"No, we're from New Jersey."

[one beat, two beats]

"Sahm diff-rahns."

Clearly, we're not the only ones who can't seem to make a left turn to save our lives.

Moral of the Story: Deep down inside, people are good, even if they do drive like crap, or something like that.

It was a good trip.

© 2003 – 2012 This Full House

July 10, 2012