This Full House Archive

Category: Extreme Home-Do-Over

  • Soooooo, I showed a tired old table a little love and now I’m ready for a nap.

    Now that we're a couple of weeks into the new school year (gosh, but how I love September!) I feel it safe to say that the kids seem to be adjusting rather nicely to their schedules and by nicely I mean:

    • They have gotten up on time
    • Remembered to get dressed
    • Eat breakfast
    • Aaaaaand, to open the storm door BEFORE trying to exit the house

    The fact that their mother (that would be me) still seems to be going through some freaked-out and totally irrational form of latent-nesting, not so much.

    My son started his freshman year in high school and his middle sister will most likely be settled into her college dorm room, this time next year (please excuse me while I take a moment to collect myself, because….MY BAYYYYYBEEEEE!!!!….okay, I'm much better now, thanks).

    My youngest will also be a teenager by then (this would be a good time to get a beverage, a snack, or something, because….MY BAYYYYYBEEEEEZ!!!!….ugh, moving on), don't you think it's sort of weird for me to be all, like….oh hey guys, where you going, come on in, sit down and stay a while….g'head and make yourselves comfy-cozy, m'kay?!?

    Fixing up stuff so they actually….you know….want to hang around, just a little while longer….pleeeeeeeease?!?!?!?

    For example:  this weekend, I was going through the garage (I hate it when they don't reload the toilet paper roll and won't miss that one bit!) and I came across this tired old table.


    Tired old table

    Poor tired old table, I know how you feel 🙁

    Because no table should look this sad (or tired) and I didn't have the heart to throw it out, so I decided to transform it into a cozy tableau of cottage-style comfort that is totally nap-worthy!

    (more…)

  • Because, I’m Awesome, My Husband Said So!

    I've been blogging for nearly a decade (because 10 years doesn't sound nearly as great as all the gray hairs I've managed to nurture, along the way, YO!) and I've seen lots of good things happen to some pretty terrific people.

    Some really craptastic stuff too, dammit.

    Focusing on the great, the thing I love MOST about blogging communities?  There is almost always someone ready to lift you up and out of [enter whatever has you in a funk, right at this particular moment, right here] by the very simple act of typing three little words:

    "I get it."

    Then again, there are times when the suckage starts to run REAL deep and, well, the damned gerbil refuses to slow down long enough for me to get the words out of my head.

    Never mind, having to worry about good grammar, proper punctuation and my terrible habit of using pretend words.

    See: craptastic.  See also: suckage.

    Besides, there is almost always SOMEONE ELSE who is most probably wading their way through some really craptastic suckage…worse even, dammit…and that someone may be reading this very blog post, right now, thinking:  

    "Duuuuuuuuude, you have NO idea."

    Sooooooo, I try to blog about stuff that perhaps help make OTHER folks (yes, maybe even YOU!) feel a little better about themselves. 

    Today is NOT one of those days.

    (more…)

  • Did I Ever Tell You About the Spider Eggs in Our Wallpaper?

    I finally caught up with Melisa, today — she's having a tough week — although, she'll tell you everything is okay, no really; she's fine.

    Still, girl could use a virtual hug.  G'head, I'll wait.

    Not for nothing, but having 3 out of 4 of my kids having attended, entering and/or graduating high school, this year (the boy is a freshman, our middle girl is a senior) I feel it safe to say that…YUP!!!…sending off "your youngest kid" to college is a really BIG deal!!!

    Personally, I hate to think what it will be like for Hope, when she's ready to fly the nest, with me still hanging onto her ankles and everything, just saying.

    Aaaaanyway, to help lighten things up a bit, I started telling Melisa this story, but she was running late (okay, fiiiiiiiiine, she said she was running late and I believe her…dammit!) and I was all like…that's okay, never mind…maybe I'll just blog it then.

    Why?  For two reasons: 1) as a cautionary tale and 2) for informational purposes, of the sort of crud that goes on…behind closed walls…especially, when you're not looking.

    (more…)

  • DIY: I Don’t Think It Means What You Think It Does

    Confession:  I am a DIY fan girl (not to mention, pretty gosh-darned fond of acronyms) and I may or may not have openly admitted to having a slight crush on Mike Holmes.

    By openly, I mean blogged about my crushing on Mike Holmes, maybe more than once.  

    Aaaaaaaand, by slight I mean, just short of tackling the poor man in public and demanding that he sign my good knee.

    Which, these days, would not ONLY get me arrested (rightfully so, because, you can't just go tackling people in public, especially strangers who make a lot more money than you do, seriously), but then I'd have to convince my husband…my back DID SO give out, I just couldn't get off of the man…aaaaaaaand…try explaining THAT to the nightly news.

    Aaaaanyway, what were we talking about?

    [blows bangs out of eyes, look at ALL that dust on the television]

    Oh yeah, sorry Mikey, adorable as you are, I am SO OVER earring-studded Canadians wielding hammers and such.

    Property Brothers

    The Property Brothers: because I am a dork and can't seem to embed the ding-danged pin http://pinterest.com/pin/162481499028515009/

    Not to mention, double-handy and equally-adorable renovating genius twins like the Property Brothers, Drew and Jonathan Scott.

    You see, for all your talk about…ummmmm…I'm not exactly sure what it is you're saying, because I may or may not be too busy being annoyed with the whine-y homeowners, wondering whether or not Jonathan (the muscle behind the redo) will be able to produce the real estate equivalent of a flipping miracle, in the time it takes me to make the simple decision between choosing regular or decaf, while hollering "WHAT IS WRONG with YOU PEOPLE?!?" at the television.

    My husband, Garth (not his real name) doesn't like watching television with me, either (especially, on Wednesday nights) and, well, don't even get me started on how Pinterest makes DIY look so gosh-darned cut, paste, let dry for 24 hours and…VIOLA!!!…check out this easy DIY upcycled pergola!

    Fibbers.

    Because, you know what DIY-ing really means, don't you?!?  Would you like to know what I think it means?!?  EXCELLENT!!!  For starters:

    • Do-It-Yet?:  as it is most commonly used in our house, the most probable answer being, next summer.
    • Don't-Injury-Yourself:  especially, if I am in the room and am mistakenly trusted with wielding heavy and/or sharp objects, then, oh yes, there will be blood.
    • D'OH-I'm-Yakking:  as in incessant vomiting, because…OMG!!!…all the blood.
    • Damn-It-YES!:  after asking my husband, for the eleven-teenth time, whether or not he remembered to charge the screw gun while adding "get new screw gun" onto the list on our twentieth trip to Home Depot.
    • Dyson-I'm-Yours:  *drooling* clean up in aisle…ummmm…wherever it is they keep the vacuums, this week.
    • Damn-It's-Yellow:  who knew there could be SO MANY shades of white?!?
    • Daddy-Is-Yelling:  he's not very fond of white-yellow.
    • Demolition-Is-Yucky:  although, dang if Mike Holmes doesn't make a hot mess look good.

    Aaaaaand, the #1 reason why I seem to continually mis-pronounce or type it as DYI:

    • Do-Yourself-In:  enough said.

    Are you feeling me?!?

    [sound of crickets, chirping]

    Stupid DYI shows, dumbass acronyms.

    © 2003 – 2013 This Full House 

    With a fan page on Facebook and everything! 

  • The Nightmare Before Christmas, Halloween House

    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. 

    The Dead Pumpkin 2007
    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!

    Heather 2008
    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?

    Corn mazing
    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

    Glen and Hope I don't remember when
    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.

    Pumpkins

    Because dead geraniums are sooo spooky, yes?

    Hope and I got it ALL up and Halloween-ish by the time my two oldest girls got home from work later that afternoon. 

    Halloween 2012

    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

  • Who Knew, Doofus Is a Designer Dawg?

    I don't know what it is, exactly, but it happens to me every time the seasons change.  I get all fired-up about redecorating, reorganizing, renovating and re-re-ing the h-e-double hockey sticks out of This Full House of mismatched scks and crunchy floors.

    For years I blamed HGTV for fueling my DIY and design envy.  Not to mention, my having a slight girl-crush on Candice Olson and Amy Matthews.

    Then Pinterest came along and…well…as if I needed yet ANOTHER reason to feel inadequate or delusional in believing renovating a house…for the last 18 years…is perfectly normal…not to mention, using pretend words like re-re-ing.

    On the other hand:  my kids bring their friends over who are all, like, "Ohhhhh, your house is sooooooooo cozy!" and…YES!…I allow those kids sleepover…A LOT!

    Lit branches

     Aaaaanyway, I tend to focus on creating cozy little gathering-type areas (unavoidable, seeing as we live in a small house) like our faux fireplace.

    It's actually our chimney.  The previous owners were using a wood-burning stove, but the town made them remove it before selling the house and, well, getting it back to a real functioning fireplace…yeah…it's on my list.

    This weekend, however, I replanted some perennials and wanted to reuse this beautiful pot (see  picture above, also: re-re-ing) to warm up our entryway by using these awesome lit branches I found at Christmas Tree Shop.

    "Is it supposed to go like that?"

    Even my 11 year-old was all, like, really?  Is THAT all you got?

    Lit branches courtesy of Doofus Dawg
    Then I noticed Doofus-Dawg bought something in from the yard as well and I just vacuumed that carpet…HEY!…wait a minute…[cue light bulb]…AH-HAH!

    I went outside, raided the kindling from our outdoor fireplace and even thought to take advantage of finally gathering up a couple of stray branches from around the yard, knocking yet ANOTHER item off of my list (don't be jealous) but, it still didn't look right.

    Lit branches and Hope
    Hope suggested we add some of the river rocks I had sitting on the driveway for the last few months (okay, more like a year:  line perimeter of pool with rocks, to make it easier to cut the grass, it's on the list) to help hold the branches up straight and, well, seems I am not smarter than a 6th grader…either.

    Lit branches doofus dawg

    Aaaaaand, even Doofus-Dawg got into the act by helping me trim the branches back a bit…NO!…  not that…ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZAP!!!!…heh, just kidding.

    Lit branches done
    Now the entryway has "Welcome, sit down and take the load off!" written all over it, right?!?  RIGHT?!? Riiiiiiiight.

    [sound of crickets, chirping]

    Yeah, whatever, Candice.  Bite me, Amy.

    © 2003 – 2013  This Full House

  • See what I did? Notice how THAT didn’t work out very well? Don’t do it THAT way, okay?

    As a blogger (or blog-guh, if you're from Jersey) I'm often times asked for my opinions on various family-related subjects and have even been allowed to share my thoughts on really important stuff (like, helping to make blog comments count) every now and again.

    Hope on Pocono rock

    Isn't this the rock you slipped and fell off of when you were little, mom?!?

    Aaaaand, not because I'm some sort of expert or anything.  It's just that raising 3 teens, 1 tween and killer dust bunnies (be careful, they bite!) my husband Garth (not his real name) and I have become quite accustomed to expecting the unexpected.

    Sort of like jumping waves at the beach, really.

    My husband's first response would mostly likely be "Okay, relax, this too shall pass, let's just move along," right after my obligatory "Holy crap on, a stick!" acknowledgement of just how quickly FUBAR life can get.

    Holy crap on a stick, a bear!

    Ummmmm, so, like, where's Mama Bear?!?

    In other words:  I am just another mom, trying to hold it together, just
    like everybody else, who's maybe grown a little more accustomed to
    dealing with crap…on a stick!!!

    Which is why, rather than doling out worthless little pieces of advice
    pellets from my parenting Pez dispenser (sorry, been watching too many
    late night episodes of Cheers lately), I believe in leading by example.

    Or, not.

    "Hrmph, I think Unfriendly Neighbor bought the house next door."

    Our 104 year-old neighbor moved into an assisted living facility, her house was on the market for only about a month when it went under contract and in the house next hers lives the neighbor who hates my kids.

    "How do you know HE bought it?"

    I have this TERRIBLE habit of thinking out loud.  Which, of course, then opens me up to being challenged by anyone who happens to be around at that particular moment.  This time, it was my 13 year-old son.

    "Well, the house sold this month."

    In the 19 years that we've lived here, I can count on one hand the times Unfriendly Neighbor has helped us with keeping Ms. Grace's lawn manageable. 

    "Aaaaaand, he's mowing the lawn AGAIN!"

    I mean, NOT that he is supposed to or anything, however, Unfriendly Neighbor's got a riding mower and…wait for it…ours has been broken for years.

    "Oh, I said hello to him, is that bad?"

    [blink-blink-blink]

    "Aaaaand, he actually said hello back."

    [blank stare]

    "So, maybe he doesn't hate us as much as YOU think he does."

    Okay, my turn.

    "How do you know?"

    Brilliant, right?  That'll learn my son.  Challenge an adult, that's fine, be ready to back your argument up with fact(s).

    "Because, I went to cut the hill for you and it was already done."

    Dammit. 

    My husband fixed our self-propelled mower so it actually, you know, self-propels now.  So, I tackled the small-ish field behind our pool yesterday, where the kids play softball, soccer and such, ignoring Unfriendly Neighbor as he rode by, not caring whether or not he heard me cursing like a truck driver each time the damned thing stalled in the high grass.

    "Maybe he felt bad and saw that it was taking you a real long time."

    [blank stare]

    "It's a good thing I waved and said hello to him then, right?"

    Yep.  MUCH smarter than me.

    [flash-forward to earlier this morning]

    "So, it turns out Unfriendly Neighbor did buy the propery next door."

    Leave it to Garth (not his real name) to take the intiative to, you know, actually check real estate records.

    "Well, he IS cleaning the place up real nice."

    Not that I'll be baking him a cake, anytime soon or anything. 

    "Maybe it will help our property value go up, a little more, too."

    Then again, what do I know? 

    "Maybe I'll bake him a cake or something."

    Stupid grass.  Dumbass economy.

    © 2003 – 2012 This Full House

  • The House Next Door: The Appraisal

    …continued from The House Next Door: Under Contract

    "Sooooo, are you guys going to allow the buyer make an offer on your house?"

    This Full House The House

    1993:  The real estate lawyer, who seemed very well-versed in the matter, insisted that investing in a "starter home" was the way to go and — considering I was pregnant with our first child, at the time — our timing could NOT have been better.

    "As long as you move before the kid starts kindergarten!"

    2012:  19 years, 4 kids, 3 cats, 3 refinances and 1 doofus-dawg later (give or take a couple of goldfish) my husband and I have FINALLY accepted the fact that…you know…we are in it…up to our collective chin hairs…and, frankly, with a lot of people losing their jobs AND homes (stupid economy) we are, pretty much, here to stay.

    Unless, Ty Pennington showed up (shows ending, enough said) or we hit the lottery (dreaming along with 6 billion other people, dammit) or if someone bought the house next door (it's under contract) and made an offer on our property.

    Aaaaand, now that the house next door is under contract…Miss Grace's 100+ year-old house will most likely be razed, to make room for a WAY BIGGER and much newer house, apartments or even a couple of townhouses…like they did down the street from us…you know…now what?

    On the one hand, our house?  It's just a house: 

    • in need of a new roof and paint job 
    • the front porch and back stairs are drooping a bit (okay, a lot)
    • the windows need to be replaced
    • not to mention 1/3 of the living room ceiling (stupid Hurricane Irene)
    • and that's only about half of the stuff we meant to…you know…get to…eventually

    On the other hand, the property is valued much higher: 

    • a builder could buy both our tracks of land
    • raze both our houses and put up another cul-de-sac
    • connecting to the ones behind our combined properties
    • and…BAM!…you got a whole new neighborhood.

    Then again, I've grown accustomed to the creaks, groans and killer dust bunnies (named a few of them, in fact) not to mention, the peace and quiet of our BIG backyard.

    Besides, how do you put a value on ALL the time invested in:

    • trading secrets under the shade of an old oak tree
    • jumping your cares and troubles away with an epic cannon ball
    • gathering onion grass, dandelions and Queen Anne's lace, used to prepare Sunday dinner for the fairies who live under the stump of a fallen birch
    • The blood, sweat and tears spent cultivating a piece of land, growing food for our table and flowers on the windowsills
    • perfuming the air with scents of lavender, basil, anise, with hints of lemon balm, sweet William and about half a dozen butterfly bushes
    • providing the perfect venue for outdoor celebrations with family and friends

    It's not just a house.  It's our home.  Now that there is a tiny (and I mean, the tiny-est of tiny-ies) chance we may FINALLY be able to move up (i.e. the 3 girls will not have to share a bedroom and the boy gets a real bedroom door) I'm not sure what we would do.

    "I heard Daddy tell Grandpa we're moving!"

    [eyes go wide]

    "Is that true?!?"

    ….to be continued.

    © 2003 – 2012 This Full House

  • What Would Mike Holmes Do, Aye?

    This Full House The House
    Measuring at just under 2,000 square feet (give or take a dust-encrusted corner) we live in a very modest 3 bedroom home.  By today's housing standards, it would more likely be described as a bungalow, cottage or expanded cape (ranch-like section added on back in the 80's) with the original a-frame portion to the left (when facing the house) dating back over 100 years. 

    Having grown up in a 5 room home (yes, my parents house was very cozy) and then sharing a 4 room apartment with my husband (cozier still) to me, this house seemed like a mansion.

    I still remember moving in on Memorial Day weekend 1993 (I was 3 months pregnant with our 1st child) standing inside the doorway, staring up at the high ceilings and thinking to myself, "Holy crap, LOOK AT ALL THIS SPACE!"

    4 kids, 3 cats, 1 doofus-dawg, several generations of dust bunnies later — not to mention having survived dozens of Nor'easters, Snowmaggedon and Hurricane Irene (the bitch!) — and entering our 20th year of living in what first began as our starter home (ahem) it's amazing that This Full House of leaky pipes and squishy wallpaper is still, you know, standing.

    "You looking to do any work on your house anytime soon?"

    I was taking the garbage out the other day and, seeing as it's been very windy, I stopped to make sure the chimney was still, you know, standing.

    "Funny you should ask."

    I struck up a conversation with a contractor-type canvassing the neighborhood and, considering I am a firm believer in serendipity (fate, karma, whatevs) not to mention, our walls weep every time it rains (as do I) well, his timing couldn't be ANY better.

    So, I took his card, gave him our daytime number(s) and he said we should expect a call later this week.

    My husband was a little skeptical (as was I) but, we made an appointment anyway for Saturday after he got home from work and then had a few minutes to compare some quick notes before the guy showed up.

    You see, we've watched enough Holmes on Homes to know that you have to be really, really careful when working with contractors.

    Aaaaand, we interrupt this blog post for a quick piece of eye candy:

    Mike Holmes

    [heavy sigh] You're welcome!

    BARK.  BARK. BARKITY-BARK.  BARK.

    I put doofus-dawg into the girls' room and then my husband and I greeted the contractor at the front door.

    "Hey, it's nice to see you again."

    Although he doesn't look ANYTHING like Mike Holmes (DAMMIT!) the guy has over 30 years experience "in the business" and, well, having been stood up by 2 previous contractors (assclowns!) I was just happy that this one actually, you know, showed up.

    "Come on in!"

    He wiped his feet, stepped in and proceeded to slip his shoes off just inside the door.

    "Oh, please, does our house look like you need to be taking your shoes off?"

    [one beat, two beats]

    "Regardless, I was taught to take my shoes off when entering someone's home."

    Aaaaand, if it were up to me, I would have hired him (or, at the very least, adopted him) right then and there.

    "Hey, those are REAL NICE socks, by the way!"

    After confirming his license, checking up on his references and driving by a couple of other homes he's worked on, of course.  

    Beeeeee'cawse, that's what Mike Holmes WOULD WANT me to do.  Go ahead, ask him.  I'll wait.

    MikeHolmes-full

    Don't be messing with my babes…AYE!

    See, it's written ALL OVER his face (IS SO!) or, "Don't be messing with my babes…YO!" if you're from Jersey.

    Stupid weeping walls, dumbass leaky roof!

    (P.S. The original portion of the house…you know, to the left when facing the house that dates back over 100 years…is fine and does NOT leak…go figure.)

    © 2003 – 2012 This Full House

  • Bathroom/Library Redo, Done, For Real (I Think!)

    So, remember how I decided to redo the bathroom/library a few days before hosting a houseful on Thanksgiving?

    Aaaaand, then I was just sitting there, minding my own business and preparing a mental list of things to forget….GASP!!!!

    Bathroom Before 5
    When I realized that, after taking the poor beat up old pantry (up there) out to the garage….I mean….storage area….there was absolutely nothing to lean on while, you know, thinking.

    Then, my husband Garth (NHRN) had a brilliant idea.

    "Why don't you just take the door off and put those basket thingies in it?!?"

    [blink, blink, blink]

    BRILLIANT!!! 

    So, on Thanksgiving Eve, I repainted it (pistachio) then sponged it (golden rod) for good measure.  Now we have a place to lean on AND store our unmentionables and stuff.

    Although, someone swiped my brand new magazines and cut 'em all up to make a collage for a last-minute art project [cough-cough-Holly-cough-cough] DAGNABIT!

    So, I "borrowed" two baskets from someone's cubby (thanks, Holls!) because, parenting IS all about give and take, you know?

    NOW…I feel content in officially calling the bathroom/library redo…done (I think!) and you're welcome.

    © 2003 – 2011 This Full House

    I'm NaBloPoMo-ing it, this month (first time NaBloPoMo-er) feel free to check out what I've NaBloPoMo-ed, thus far (PHEW!) and let me know how I'm doing (I mean, 30 posts, in 30 days, really?!?) when you have time, of course!

      Feed me, see more!