No, you are most certainly NOT almost as tall as the corn…DAMMIT?!?
Taken with my cell phone. Imagine what I could do with a REAL camera? Yeah, I’m looking at you, Garth (not his real name!)
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Corn, maze, maize, whateverrrrr.
As a mom, celebrating her 16th Halloween (I’m old, I know, shuddup!) I feel it safe to say that, no matter how grown you think your kids are (yes, mine are probably more-oldish than yours) the great pumpkin hunt is ALWAYS an adventure.
Feets, don’t fail me now!
So, yesterday, after hosting a yummy Sunday brunch for a couple of my besties (seriously, you SHOULD be my friend) I asked the kids if they’d like to get their pumpkin hunt in early (i.e. before Halloween!!!)
This year, however, we opted into taking “the scary” hayride (as opposed to “the friendly” and less, you know, scenes from Disturbia version of Halloween celebrations) and, well, I don’t expect my 11 year-old son will get a good night sleep, for a while.
“I…DO…NOT…LIKE…THIS…HAY…RIDE!!!”
Not until after Christmas, anyways.
Tried to get a picture, so I could show my son, later (since, he spent most of the ride with his face buried in my left shoulder) then someone SCREAMED and all I got was my finger!
Honestly, the worse I was expecting was for some dude to jump out in a gorilla suit, maybe a couple of scream experts, a few bloodied teens all hopped up on testosterone, a month’s serving of candy corn, or something.
“Rum-bum-bum-bum-zzzzooom-zzzzooom-zzzzoom!”
Okay, so the chainsaw-wielding clown AND machette-swinging zombies DID freak us out, a little (alright, A LOT) but, I tried to remember that the ride was supposed to be, you know, scary!
Unlike, some poor girl’s parents (I’m guessing she was about my son’s age) who went all buh-liss-tick AND I mean in a totally stop-this-ride-I-wanna-go-home sort of way, too!!!
“SCRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAMMMMMMMM!!!!”
Nah, her parents probably won’t get any sleep…either…not for the rest of the year, anyways!
Pumpkin guts, it’s what’s for dinner!
A few more minutes, and a WHOLE LOT of convincing that the chainsaw-wielding clown would NOT be waiting around the corner, later in the corn maze (I HOPE!) we picked our pumpkins and went home…to cut them (Jersey style) and then dig their guts out…with a spoon!
Holly carved her own pumpkin, this year (sniff!) his name is Pip (via Great Expectations!)
As did Heather (sob!) his name is Fester (like the wound, not the Adams Family…ICK!)
I helped Hope with hers (YAY!) his name is Professor Zumie (like, the store she wishes I’d let her shop in!)
Ghoulishy, scary, in a cute sort of way, these pumpkins really ARE the best this house has ever seen!
But, wait, there’s more (you’re welcome!) the family pumpkin! You know, the one that I get to cut (because, I’m the mom!) His name is Mr. Bill!
What about Glen? Oh, he finally admitted to having a good-ish time (DAMMIT!) aaaand his pumpkin is up there, sitting right next to mine.
“I christen thee…The Pumpkin Who Shall Not Be Named!”
The un-cut version, of course — eat that Charlie, Brown!
© 2010 This Full House Blog / TFH Gone Shopping
Having been my children’s primary care provider (i.e. Mom) for the last 17 years (I know, I’m old, SHUDDUP!) I look forward to impromptu school holidays, like Columbus Day, when I don’t have to cook, clean or do anything special (like, cook or clean) normally associated with celebrating more traditional gift-giving and feasting-type holidays.
I kind of get excited when my husband, Garth (not his real name) happens to have the day off, too!
Still.
Working from home does have its disadvantages.
“When is So-and-So and What’s Her Name coming over, again?”
We’re helping a couple of friends out by sitting their kids, today (what’s two more, right?) and by we…of course…I mean, Garth (not his real name!)
“I’m going to make a worm box!”
Aaaaand, I have to be honest, I am feeling a little threatened at the moment.
“Cool, can we help!”
Honestly, a worm box?
So, I went outside (seeing as I showered, got dressed and everything) to take a look at this fantastical worm box.
Aaaaand, not ONLY is it a fantastical way to get kids outside (so, mommy can get a jump start on a couple of writing projects this week) not to mention, actually convincing them that something low-tech, like digging for worms is, you know, fun (their names are Jeffrey, Skittles and Bob) but, Garth (not his real name) got a chance to demonstrate his multi-tasking skills, by cleaning out my shredder, too.
DAMMIT!
“Do you need any clean clothes for your trip, tomorrow?”
Aaaand, I’m okay with that AND totally crushing on my husband’s feminine side…today!
(Disclosure: Garth (not his real name) just reminded me that my son and his friend wanted nothing to do with the outdoors and now they are ALL folding socks.)
Boys, however, ARE stewpid!
(Disclosure: I was able to convince the boys that…yeah…they REALLY would probably rather be outside, too.)
I win!
I worry about my children. What? You, too!?!? Oh, thank goodness, because I thought parents of preschoolers were the only ones allowed to, you know, NOT know what they are doing.
You see, once I became a parent (i.e. someone’s mother, not apparent, like in an easily noticed sort of way) I was told (by other parents) when my children hit kindergarten (i.e. started school full-time, not hit, like in a smack with a hammer sort of way) that my job was, you know, DONE!
And I believed them.
After all, having raised 4 babies, to toddlerhood (yes, it’s a word!) and beyond, it IS hard work (and I mean that in every sense of the word) heck, I’ve got the eye baggage to prove it.
“Have a GREAT day at school, Sweetie!!!”
[pumps fist into air]
“WHOOT…WE DID IT!!!”
Yes, I actually played that scene, just like that, over and over again (in my head) and when that 1st day of school FINALLY came, well…
“WHOOT!!!”
…yah, it was pretty much like that.
“Ummmm…now what?”
Figuring out what to do with myself was never really an issue (not with ANOTHER kid, at home) until my youngest hit started full-time kindergarten and…well…you know.
“What are you going to do with your day? “
Et tu, Garth (not his real name?)
Oh, I was very happy and not just because my husband took me to breakfast that fateful morning.
Right now, those of you who know that Hope is in the 4th grade (I think!) I bet you’re wondering, you know, how DO I remember that, right?
Well, I was finding ways in which I can avoid doing the laundry cleaning out my files, when I came across this blog post I wrote waaaaay back in 2006.
So what, right?
Well, I read the rest of my post (because, well, I am my BIGGEST fan) and this is the part that got me, but good:
“I’ve got tons of stuff to do…there’s a pile of mail on my desk
that I need to go through…not to mention laundry…and tons of stuff
that don’t fit the kids…I need to sift through…before changing over
the closets for the fall…and I’ve got to organize their
rooms…better…before I can do that…which reminds me…I’ve got to
get the garage cleaned out…before I can finish renovating the
kitchen…and re-finish the dining room…I was hoping to start this
past summer…but, not before I finish wallpapering our room…I
started…three years ago…oh, crap…but, I’ll have finish painting
Little Man’s room, first…and…um…are you okay, Hon?”
Long story, short (you’re welcome!) my husband’s eyes glazed over and then, well, he went to work.
So, what’s my point?
[rolls up sleeves]
Although my writing HAS changed (sort of):
Why? Because, I’m STILL busy worrying about AND still doing OTHER stuff for my kids…dammit!
[crosses arms]
Why am I telling you ALL this?
[rolls eyes]
Okay, so once YOUR kids are in school full-time and folks begin telling YOU that, you know, your job is done…don’t worry about it!
[rolls up sleeves]
Just send them my way…I’ll fix ’em…REAL good!
[reaches for hammer]
Heck, isn’t that what blogging’s for?
[sound of crickets chirping]
Well, I feel better; how about you?
Would you believe, I was a REAL “Boy, she has it ALL together” type mom? Once. YES, I WAS, DAMMIT! You wouldn’t know it now [blows bangs out of eyes] but, I even used to bake my kids homemade birthday cakes.
“That was the doctor’s office.”
Now, they consider themselves very lucky if I remember their birthdays…at all.
“She says we are WAY over due on our well visits.”
I was supposed to take them in August. It’s STILL September, right?
“Fine.”
So, I added, “call pediatrician,” to the monstrosity that is my to-do list; nevermind, try to find an empty space on the calendar.
What? Yours, too?
[shakes head]
Aaaand, it’s only September, right?
“I left you a note on your laptop.”
Now, I have to write stuff on 2 calendars and then punch it into my cell phone, just in case, you know, I forget to look at the calendar.
“And I sent you a text.”
10 years from now, however, my children will undoubtedly remember their mother as being a discombobulated mess.
“Thank you.”
What they fail to see, however (along with the wet towels left to ferment along the bathroom hallway) is, in my discombobulatedness (yes, it’s a word!) I have played an important role in teaching them good organizational skills.
“Um…where is my cell phone?”
Aaaand, keeping them motivated in practicing those skills.
“It’s probably in your car, Mommy.”
Probably. Since, I spend most of the time, sitting in it, or driving it (mostly, sitting) especially, this time of year.
“I left you a note…too…bye…LOVE YOU!”
My 9 year-old, being the youngest of 4, is also advanced proficient in self-preservation and, after almost 10 years (or more, I forget) of fighting our way in and out of carpool lanes (i.e. they ARE the devil) the kid’s got the stop, drop and ROLL thing down to a science!
“I love…”
Too late. She was out of the car and passed the bus lane. 3 seconds more and I could have saved the kid a couple hundred bucks worth of therapy.
“She NEVER could say I love you!”
[heavy sigh]
Then, I found her note.
Aaaand, well, you know. Yes, my brain is mush. But, I kind of, sort of, love the fact that my kids leave me little love notes…just like the ones I used to send…in their lunch bags.
Until, I read the second one.
Apparently, she really, really, really, really, really, really wants to be able to use the gift card…she got for her birthday…way back…in June.
It is STILL September, right?
[shrugs]
So, along with the fact that the gift card is good until June of 2012 (thankyouverymuch!) I added a little note of my own.
“I love you too, sweetie and good luck getting your card back!”
[eyes go wide]
What? So, I’m a discombobulated mess (DAMMIT!) but, I am NOT stoo-pid, you know?
I love the beach this time of year. The fresh, salty air is a bit chillier, which makes the water seem much, much warmer and, well, most of the Bennies (i.e., the cast of the Jersey Shore, mostly, ironically enough) have ALL gone home.
“When was the last time we were at this beach, again?!?”
I get it. I was young, once (shuddup!) and could NOT wait for Friday nights, in the summer, when we’d head down the Parkway to Seaside Heights and/or Wildwood Crest and sneak into bars study the bible, ALL weekend long!
“I remember, Momma, it was when we showed Dana the ocean!”
I’d forgotten. Yeah, it really was the day we introduced my bloggy friend Dana to the ocean — she’s from Wisconsin!
“Has it been THAT long?!?”
Sadly, my kids have outgrown Jenkinson’s Boardwalk.
Glen’s 1st trip to the boardwalk — Jenkinson’s 1999
It really is just the right size for little ones; ALL tuckered out by nap time (me, too) and we’d be loooong gone by the time the Jersey Shore night life, you know, woke up.
“I thought that ride was SO MUCH bigger!”
Then, before you know it, YOUR kids meet the maximum 48 inches to ride and, well, you know, you can’t go back.
“Can we get zeppoles?!?”
Yesterday, however, was a GREAT day to get out (considering, September also translates to, “school holiday,” in Jersey!) and housewife is such an oxymoron, dontchathink?
Mmmmm….the view inside a big bag of zeppoles (pronounced as zep-poh-leez) or, fried dough, drowning in powdered sugar, if you’re NOT from Jersey.
“Noooo, I want funnel cake!!!”
Mmmmm…of course…(or, auf-cawse, if you’re from Jersey) there’s ALWAYS room for funnel cake!!!
“Wanna eat it on the beach?!?”
Bet you did NOT know we had palm trees, or blue skies, here in Jersey, right? Are they real? You know, I really don’t know.
“This was really an AWESOME day, Momma!”
What we DO know is that there’s SO MUCH more to Jersey than what some reality t.v. shows would care to admit, sort of.
“Too bad you ran outta money for the rides!”
Of course, it most likely will not be the one that my kids remember but, let’s NOT go there…just yet…m’kay!?!?
“Wait, let me take your picture!!!”
My 11 year-old son (the ONLY boy in the house, btw) is smiling, but inside I know that he was all, like, JEEZ!
“CRAP! Wait, it’s too dark!”
Frankly, the kid has lived with me long enough to know that, you know, it’s just easier to pretend EVERYONE’S mother is a dork (like me) especially, on the first day of school.
“Okay, now, smile!”
DAMMIT! Hang on. Can I just, you know, UGH!!! Wait a minute. Is he? Nooooo. Who am I kidding? Maybe he was just wiping some leftover sleep from his eye. Or, a bug flew up his nose (it COULD happen) still, it would be nice to think that my kids, you know, like having me around, kind of, sort of, too.
“Wait, let me take your picture!!!”
My youngest daughter (she’s 9) was packed and ready to start school, a couple of weeks ago and, no, I can’t say as I blame her.
“CRAP! Wait, it’s too light!”
She’s the last of my kids to ever enter the 4th grade and, I’m sorry, but I just don’t remember the other 3 ever looking THIS little.
“Okay, now, smile!”
DAMMIT! They just NEVER wait, anymore, do they? Maybe she was feeling sorry for her baby sister (ahem) or, because she’s a freshman now and doesn’t start HER high school until next week (SOB!) still, it would be nice to think that my kids, you know, really do like each other, kind of, sort of, too.
“Wait a minute…”
[scrolls thru cell phone]
“…who did I forget?”
DAMMIT! I’m just NOT ready to admit that MY OLDEST IS A JUNIOR IN HIGH SCHOOL!!! Maybe, it was just WAY too early in the morning and I couldn’t find my phone (it COULD happen) still, it would be nice to think that she already knows, after ALL these years, I love her, just the same.
Wait a minute!
Does a “night before school starts” picture of my coloring her hair count for at least something?!?
[sound of many crickets, chirping]
Besides, the fact that, you know, YES, I am one of THOSE moms and, well, there could be worse things.
[ducks lightning bolt]
Like, she could have a mother stupid enough to actually leave that picture (up there) on Flickr, right?
[cricket]
Riiiiiight. Wait a minute. She DOES read my blog. D’OH! Never mind.
Happy 20th Anniversary to us, Garth (not his real name!)
Most of my kids go back to school, this week — my middle girl has been accepted into a specialized high school and doesn’t start until the Tuesday after Labor Day AND yes the other kids are NOT happy about it.
So, to soften the mood of our house (seriously, where DID the summer go?) my husband Garth (not his real name) surprised me for our 20th Wedding Anniversary (thanks for the well wishes, btw!) by taking a vacation day last Wednesday, Thursday AND Friday to spend more time with me (yes, ME!) doing absolutely nothing of REAL importance, which truly is a MONUMENTAL act of love, on his part.
Trust me, I know!!!
Although, it’s nice to find some folks sharing their secrets to a happy marriage (97 of them, to be exact) I just think it would be prudent to just tell you that Garth (not his real name) and I have absolutely NO idea how we made it, this far!
Especially, considering what happened THIS passed weekend.
(more…)
My husband, Garth (not his real name) met me at the train station on Sunday and, after taking a quick look at my swollen legs, scaly arms, blistering hands and blotchy neck (you’re welcome!) believing that my recent poison ivy infection had somehow morphed into leprosy (ditto) he drove me straight to the doctor’s office.
“I can’t breath.”
Apparently, I still hadn’t gotten over an unexpected trip to a NYC hospital and BusyMom wasn’t around.
(more…)I dropped the kids off at my folks' place today and it's, like, back-to-school quiet around here. Good thing, too, seeing as I'm not even packed, yet.
"We're hungry!"
Last week? Sucked donkey balls (that one's for my friend, Surprised Mom) and, well, good thing I am the master of spontaneous parenting.
[looks in fridge]
"BREAKFAST…it's what's for dinner!"
So, tonight, I'm sitting here, at the kitchen table…ALL…BY…MYSELF…and listening to absolutely nothing…except, for the sounds of my husband Garth (not his real name) making dinner.
"Stir fry sound good, for you?"
Sure, I'm a little hesitant about leaving the kids (with my parents, I mean) still, they are getting older and basically take care of themselves (my kids, I mean) especially, if there's cable and a microwave nearby (oh, I kid, sort of) and my oldest girls are really GREAT at holding down the fort, in an emergency.
"Do you mind if I head over to Kohls?"
This week, I spent 90 minutes at Dress Barn on Monday and all I got was a stinkin' scarf (cute, but it still sorta stinks that I couldn't find anything else) to show for it.
"Okay, but I have to tell you something."
Which is really code for, "This way, I don't have to look at you," in teen text.
"But, I don't want to tell you over the phone."
Aw, crap.
Long story, short (you're welcome) here's the gyst of what happened…in bullet points:
Because, I already had "the talk" with Glen — thanks a lot, Garth (not your real name!) — and, well, the boy was doing me a favor.
The girls punished him, anyway.
"What he say?"
Bulleted version:
Aaaaand, he was right…mostly.
"Put him on the phone."
So, I un-punished Glen, scolded Holly and Heather (seriously, who's the mommy?) and promised to have "the talk" with Hope…aaaaaafter, I get back.
Morale of the Story: Kohls RAWKS, cell phones are NOT the devil and my husband's stir fry tastes even better…cold…pregnant…or, SO NOT!!!
In the meantime, look for me at BlogHer — I'll be the tall, dork-ish one texting her kids — trying to convince my youngest two that Headless Mom, you know, really does have a head and my oldest two that her blog name has absolutely NOTHING to do with sex!
I think.
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Full House Blog – All Rights Reserved.