Now this, THIS IS EXACTLY what my dining room looks like, here at home.
Minus the nice walls, finished ceilings, those wickedly awesome French doors and fancy furniture, that rug and gorgeous light fixture, WOW, oh and, at second glance, uhhhhh, our floor may or may not look a little less, you know, finished.
Ummmm, did I mention, we have the same color pallet, tho?!?
Stupid houzz!
© 2003 – 2011 This Full House
NO!!! Because, my 5th grader doesn't have a cell phone. She will (eventually) then text me, how much she HATES the bus, like her siblings before her, most likely.
All arguments for or against cell phone use in school and kids today with their entitlement issues, aside (really, 4 kids, living under 1 leaky roof, I get it) her latest argument that, "My friends are texting each other, except me!" is more than just a little disconcerting.
"Which friends?"
I mean, we ARE talking 10 year-old girls, who stop talking to each other, every other day, just so you know.
"ALL my friends!"
Still, I remember when it seemed ALL my friends wore Converse sneakers and, being raised hearing stories of my father entering this country, with borrowed shoes (2 sizes too small) how torn I felt about my Shoprite specials.
Unconvinced (see last paragraph) I remind her that it couldn't possibly be ALL her friends.
"I mean So-and-So calls you on our house phone, every day."
Okay, I mean, at least every OTHER day.
"Beeeeeee-cawse, I don't have a cell phone, remember?!?"
[blink, blink, blink]
GAH! Whatever! It's sort of hard to argue with a child's sense of logic, without sounding a little like a 12-year-old, my ownself, yes?
"Well, that's not ALL your friends now, is it?"
See what I mean?
"YES IT IS!"
Times like this, squashing my inner-12-year old is really, really hard, just so you know.
"What about So-and-So?"
[one beat, two beats]
"Beeeeeee-cawse, she has me on conference call!"
[eyes go wide]
"I can't even do that with my phone, DAGNABIT!"
There, I said it (keep your Blackberry, Droid and iPhone apps to yourselves, please) I have a dumb phone, don't judge.
"Well, you COULD get a smart phone and we CAN always learn to share!"
Damn, that kid is smart (stupid phone!)
We attended a family get-together in memory of Garth's (NHRN) uncle who, sadly and very suddenly, passed away last month.
The kids were a little nervous (me, too!) it's been almost a year since they attended my aunt's funeral and they're still not quite over her passing (me, either.)
I promised it was not going to be like that.
This was, however, an opportunity to meet up with extended family members of the Thompson Clan, from Arizona and Boston, who we haven't visited with in a very long time.
Which also gave us the chance to introduce our kids to another branch of their family.
Okay, so we were ALL a little more than nervous.
Still, it was held here in Jersey (yes, on purpose!) at Garth's (NHRN) cousin's home, which my SIL promised would be, an experience to behold.
She was NOT even kidding. The wine cellar, alone, filled from floor to ceiling with bottles of pinots, cabs, shiraz and champagnes (they weren't even dusty DANGIT!) you could tell, was created to be a very livable space, with it's own thermostat and humidifier, well, I was ready to move in.
We were ALL blown away and each complimented my cousin-in-law, more than once, on her beautiful home, having done ALL the decorating, herself.
Okay, so we were all, like, "GAWD, this is gor-juss!" and "How many bathrooms DO you have, again?" every danged chance we got, hoping not to have sounded tooooo, you know, envious.
We had a really great time, considering the circumstances and, after watching a rather emotional tribute to my uncle-in-law, we were all a little sad to go.
Until, my cousin-in-law insisted that we come back, for Christmas and, well, one or more of us may or may not have volunteered to help clean up and perhaps stay, you know, until then, or maybe even for forever.
I mean, they DO have the room (DAGNABIT!) the area is absolutely gorgeous (yes, here in Jersey!) and they seemed to like us, just fine, until.
CRASH! I backed up into this rock, left behind when they cleared the lands to make room for their 1/4 mile driveway.
"SHOOT!"
And I may or may not have swapped the two "o's" for an "i" because, you know, I'm from Jersey.
"Do you think anyone heard that?"
Judging by all the cameras on the front porch, visible from way over here, even, I'd say, YES!
"Funny, I thought the rock would be bigger!"
Stupid echo!
© 2003 – 2011 This Full House
I double-dog dare you to tell Doofus-Dawg, "NO!" Go ahead, I'll wait!!!
© 2003 – 2011 This Full House
7 years ago (next month) I sold my childhood home (approx. 30 minutes outside of NYC) and moved my parents "down the shore" to live in "the village" or what my kids warmly refer to as "Camp Mama and Papa."
So, a week before the move, we took our kids up for one last visit and my husband started to take a couple of random pictures.
At first, I couldn't quite understand why. Although, yes, the gardens were magnificent and often times my parents would receive compliments from passersby.
My kids grew up here visiting with their grandparents nearly every Sunday and yet I couldn't help but look forward to watching each of them (and us) make many more memorable moments in Mama and Papa's shiney new home.
The last I heard, the house on Union Street was being rented (AGAIN!) and, living 90 minutes away, my parents sometimes STILL visit, insisting that, you know, they just happened to be in the neighborhood.
A few weeks ago, I drove up north to run a few errands (okay, only one, the Hungarian butcher is still there, enough said) and did EXACTLY what I told my parents NOT to do.
I drove up Union Street, right passed the house and, I swear, I could hear my heart break a little.
The foot bridge, the lamp post, the rose-covered arbor, the greenhouse that my father built using leftover materials recycled from various landscaping job sites, it was ALL gone.
I did NOT recognize it, anymore.
Today, I'm heading out to check on my parents (my dad tore a ligament in his "good arm," yesterday) but, not before I make a quick stop for them at the Hungarian butcher…ONLY!
So, yeah, thank you, Garth (NHRN) this is EXACTLY how I will always remember Union Street.
© 2003 – 2011 This Full House
I'm a people watcher to the extent where I can sit, pretty much any place, for hours and, you know, make other people wonder, "Why IS she staring at me like that?!?"
Because, it's in my genes, along with a weird sort of magnetism, or ability to draw complete strangers into sharing their WHOLE life story (I'm a good listener, too) oh, and certain parts of my body are extremely follicle-ly gifted (you're welcome!) I get it from my dad.
My father volunteered to be pool monitor (checks badges, accepts tickets from visitors) a couple hours, twice a week, this summer and if you've ever hung around the geriatric set (figuratively AND literally speaking) then you would probably understand when he tells you, "Izzzzz no pic-a-nik!"
It was his last day (as pool monitor) but, he did not want to go, because it was between the hours of "NO splashing" and "They're not OUR grandkids."
I said that I would go with him, anyway, just to keep him company and it would give him (and me) the chance to sit and make fun of the…I mean…interact with the rest of the villagers.
"Did you ask permission to take pictures?"
You know, it was SUCH a beautiful day and I really could have sat there for hours, I don't believe the cement was very interested in what I was doing, really.
"I em herrrrr perrrrrrmeeeeee-shun!"
I mean, he IS the pool monitor and, honestly, the pool chairs and loungers didn't seem to mind, either.
My kids think their grandfather is funny (me, too) but, sometimes they have a real hard time figuring out whether Papa is being serious, or not (ditto) like, when he tells them how he, you know, hates senior citizens.
"Oh, okay, YOU gave her permission, uh-uh, and you are?"
Okay, not really, it's just, well, at this point, my father feels life is too short to worry about Jackwagons, who insist on acting all, you know, Jackwagon-y.
"I em fin-eeeshed speaking to you."
Me, too… AND… I really, really hate it when people get all patronize-y, like that!
"Sir, really, you're not making any friends, talking down to people, like that."
[eyes go wide]
"Oh, I forrrrget, you did not meet my frrrrrend Joe…Joe, dis izzzz my dah-terrrr."
[one beat, two beats]
"Yeah, I noticed the resemblence."
UGH! That Papa! He's so, so funny.
"Nice to meet you, too!"
Morale of the Story: If a man insisted always on being serious, and never allowed himself a bit of fun and relaxation, he would go mad or become unstable without knowing it. ~ Herodotus
Aaaaaand, THEN, make it HIS life's mission to drive us womenz right off the deep end…riiiiiiiiight?!?
[sound of crickets, chirping]
Look, over there, up on that satellite thingy, isn't that one of those turkey vultures, up there?!?
SLAM!
© 2003 – 2011 This Full House
One of my favorite pics from our weekend getaway to Cape Cod. Don't worry, I talked her out of it, which reminds me, I still owe her an ice cream cone.
© 2003 – 2011 This Full House
We heard it was coming, a few days after experiencing our first earthquake and it was supposedly one of the biggest storms to hit the New Jersey coast in recent memory.
We prepared, each in our own way and as much as we could, considering our house loses power whenever the town burps or hiccups, stocking up on can goods, batteries, candles, lots of ice and Ibuprofen (okay, that last one was for me) thinking that we would be without electric for a day or two.
Five (5) days later, my middle girl called me at the laundromat to say that the lights came on and I cried.
We fared better than most.
A week after the storm, it was announced that the federal government has approved New Jersey’s disaster assistance request for state residents in ALL 21 counties impacted by Hurricane Irene.
Just a few miles away, there are people we know who are still without power and/or draining a swimming pool in their basement.
As we wait our turn to estimate the cost of the damage caused by Irene (at last count, our living room ceiling sprung about a dozen leaks and the wallpaper by our front door burst open to expose a magical water fountain underneath) there is nothing that could not be repaired, or cannot be dealt with, over time.
Not when there were lives lost.
Although, I feel it safe to admit that…YES!…the last week or so has been very stressful.
Except, the part where we spent two gorgeous days and nights with my parents (see pic above!) or, hosting an impromptu virtual sleepover with online friends (thanks, you and Gabs do good face, Jenn!)
Oh, and ALL four of the kids are actually looking forward to starting school tomorrow (FTW!)
I, on the other hand, am very, very thankful to be able to sit here, in this house (filled to capacity with unmatched socks and mildewy as it may be) I get it.
People have experienced worse…of course, they always do…but, we WERE lucky and I am just happy to have the chance to write…again…after the storm.
Howeverrrrrrr, the next person who insists that…pssshhhh…Hurricane Irene was NUH-THING!…gets a Wet Willy (look it up!)
© 2003 – 2011 This Full House
In between earthquakes and hurricane warnings (what a week we're having, Jersey, eh?) my husband, Garth (NHRN) and I celebrated our 21st wedding anniversary and had an awesome dinner with my in-laws, last night!
I tried to keep the conversation light (thanks to 2 Mojitos and an awesome glass of Pinot Gris) alas, my husband's boyscout powers, along with the category 2 hurricane and extreme flood warnings, had been activated early in the day.
"You guys have everything you need?"
My in-laws are both in their 80's (but, you STILL look good Mom!) and, well, let's just say that they didn't seem very worried about the weather.
"Ah-yup."
Still, I told them that the kids and I were going to go down to check on my folks (they live about 15 miles inland from Seaside Heights) then, I would stop by their house (my in-laws live about 10 minutes away from us) to help secure stuff and drop off a case of bottled water.
"I don't expect there'd be a problem."
My father-in-law is from New England, enough said.
"But, you want to be able to have coffee!"
I mean, seriously, you really have to wonder about some people's priorities.
"Category 2 hurricane and you're worried about coffee?"
I'm sure the table behind us MUST have heard the muscles in my neck snap, as I whipped my head in my husband's direction (I mean, my neck STILL hurts a little) seriously, he's lived with me for 21 years.
"Maybe coffee would help make them worry about it, you know, less."
Okay, at this point, I realize that it sounded as if I was being beaten by the stoopid stick.
It's not every day you experience an earthquake AND a hurricane in the same week.
I stood my ground.
"This way, you have water, all you have to do is just fire up your Keurig and you're good to go."
Wait for it.
"That's actually a great idea.
Wait. For. It.
"Iffffffff, they had electricity!"
AHEM.
"How about those Giants?"
[blink, blink]
"They're actually going to go ahead and play the Jets."
[sound of crickets]
"You know, on Saturday?!?"
[heavy sigh]
"Sure, I'll have another glass of wine, thanks!"
All I'm saying is, thank goodness, I married a boyscout….stupid Irene!
© 2003 – 2011 This Full House
As you may (or, may not) have heard (or, even care, considering other more important stuff, like, oh, I don't know, preparing for a hurricane, or something) we had a bit of excitement the other day when the earth "Pfffftttt" here in Jersey.
All east coast jokes aside (seriously, I'm from Jersey, we're used to it) what I can tell you is this, I was already sitting on the floor and did NOT panic (at first) thinking:
a) I was helping the girls clean out their closet and, well, it's a lot like playing Jenga, only different.
b) The washing machine was running at the time and I may (or, may not) have overloaded the sucker (again!)
c) A truck busted open that stupid sink hole down the street, or the watermain broke (or, both!)
d) Our house is old, it farts (a lot!)
Until, I saw my oldest girl's eyes go wide (LIKE THIS!) and watched one of their cubbies shimmy, back and forth, like J-Lo (in slow motion) did I feel the floor ripple under me.
PANIC!!!!!
All west coast sensibilities, aside (seriously, I get it!) the rest of the kids and I met in the living room and it wasn't because we thought it was an earthquake, at first.
"Is the house falling down?"
It is at this very moment, when I realized, that ALL those years of my joking about the house…falling down around our ears…pretty much bit me right in the buttocks.
Literally AND figuratively speaking, dagnabit.
P.S. Many thanks to all my west coast friends on Facebook and Twitter for their patience in helping me explain to my kids how the earth typically doesn't, "Pfffftttt," like that, here in Jersey.
P.P.S. My 10 year-old finally DID manage to put her feet down on the floor, rather than walk her way around the house, on top of the furniture.
P.P.P.S. Yo, Irene…BITE ME!!!
© 2003 – 2011 This Full House
Freshly-brewed elsewhere: Allstate Good Hands Roadside Assistance Program Recap where I get to share a $50 Amazon gift card. Also, had fun filming this video with the Minute Clinic folks at BlogHer.