This Full House Archive

Category: It’s not the years, HONEY – it’s the mileage!

All Grown Up, Still Needs Huh Muh-Thuh!

Remember when I was all, like "WAH!" I am officially a mother of an 18 year-old (a.k.a. a fully-grown adult) and you all were, like:

"Really?"

"Aaaaand, you've only had 18 years to prepare?"

"Get over it, already!"

Or, maybe it was just the voices in my head (okay, you guys, shuddup for a second!)

Then again, raising 4 kids (not to mention, killer dust bunnies) I have grown accustomed to hearing and/or responding to at least 4 different conversations, at the same time (it's a gift) I am THAT good of a lis-sen-nuh.

Aaaaanyway, said 18-year old went out and got herself a job that pays in REAL money and everything (more than I got paid managing the fitness center, even!) with the promise of keeping the same flexible hours, once she starts college in September (don't EVEN get me started!)

Although I would NEVER admit it (out loud, anyway) now that 1 out of 4 of our kids are all grown up (mostly) I can't help but feel like, you know, "WAAAAAAAAAH!"

"Why don't you come on in, Mrs. Thompson."

[blink-blink-blink]

"She's a little nervous."

I was SO wrapped up in my thoughts (seriously, you guys, it's scary in here!) that it took me a few seconds to remember where I was and realize that, you know, a real person was speaking.

"Aaaand, she's asking for you."

You see, I took my oldest for her employment physical and she is STILL a little squeamish about needles (yes, she gets it from me) but, I stayed in the lobby because, well, you know, she's 18 and I was closer to the bathroom, anyway.

"Why don't you go ahead and hold her other hand, Mrs. Thompson."

As I stood there pretending to, you know, watch (mostly!) I quietly thought to myself, "She MUST be a Muh-thuh, too!"

"You just go ahead and squeeze, sweetie."

[eyes go wide]

"DAYUM!"

Note to Self: you are right handed. Next time, give her your OTHER hand.

© 2003 – 2012 This Full House

March 5, 2012
Parenting Tip #2,189,562: Talking to Your Kids About Sex, Drive and Let Them Do ALL the Talking FIRST!

I was in the 5th grade when we were herded into gym class to watch someone’s mother (or, maybe she was an older sister, I forget) as she wrestled with a “sanitary belt” (I know, I’m old, shuddup!) and we wondered what in the heck the boys were doing, right at that moment.

I first French-kissed a boy in the 6th grade, in between a chain-linked fence that separated the baseball field from the basketball courts and spent the next few weeks in absolute terror until one of my friends finally convinced me that…uh, no and DER!…you can NOT get pregnant from kissing.

Aaaand, thus ends the extent of my education into womanhood.

Then, I had children and I swore up, down and sideways that MY kids will not be afraid to ask me ANYTHING about, well, EVERYTHING!

“Mom, what’s an erection.”

(more…)

February 27, 2012
When I Was Young, We Could Only Buy Gas on Even-Numbered Days

Aaaaand, other lunchtime conversations that make me sound old, and hungry:

Not for nothing, but imagine if I had typed this ALL out (you're welcome!)

© 2003 – 2012 This Full House

February 23, 2012
All the Leaves Are Brown, Let’s Smell Them!

A couple of weeks ago my middle girl and I were hiking in the woods — yes, like in trees, we have lots of them here in Jersey — when I suddenly stopped to take this picture and managed to annoy quite a few joggers along the way.

Can't help it, I want to remember.

The sound of the trickling water was just so calming and then the smell of the wet leaves hit, bringing me back to my childhood, when my twin brother and I would dig for creepy crawlies and begin taking turns imagining the most fantastic stories of hidden little imaginary worlds.

I've since shared these stories with my children AND with my husband, Garth (not his real name) who learned of my fascination with tree spirits on our first "day date" and, well, yes, now that they're older, my kids are just as surprised as you probably are, right now, that he even bothered to, you know, call back.

I was going through some photos, because this is the winter "I swear" to print and display updated pictures around the house and, well, yeah, it seems I really do spend a lot of time looking down on the ground or up at the sky.

"Look at those vines, Momma, let's go swing on them!"

But, there was this one time in the woods when my kid and I ignored the disagreeable looks of passersby, took a swing on a gnarly vine and forgot about life's rough patches…for just a little while, anyway.

"OOMPHUH!"

Aaaaand, I may or may not have gotten a nose-full of leaves for my troubles. Good thing I wasn't holding the camera, or my kid was too busy laughing, to take a picture, right?!? RIGHT?!?

[sound of crickets, chirping]

Riiiiiiight, if anyone needs me, I'll be upstairs holding my middle girl's hair back, as we both finish getting SO OVER this warm-ish winter.

Stupid creeping crud!

© 2003 – 2012 This Full House

February 21, 2012
Power of Positive Thinking, Richardless

Um, yeah, about my last post, sorry about that. Admitting that I sometimes experience dark feelings of angst and perhaps rely on other people's happiness, way too much, is not very conducive to engaging in an easy-breezy, go ahead take your shoes off and get comfortable, sort of conversation, right?

Also, not my typical writing style.

I blame it on having been home-bound for the last few weeks, harboring a fugitive kidney stone (his name is Richard, Dick for short) then being slammed with a wicked head cold, just when I was really beginning to feel pretty good — especially, from the neck up.

Compounded by consuming large amounts of mindless TV (stay away from Bravo, it's highly addictive!) while the children and my husband took turns tucking me into the couch, or bringing me fresh boxes of tissues and herbal tea.

Then, it hit me like a ton of idioms: I was suffering from a man cold and…just ask any woman and they'll tell you…that shitz is near fatal, you guys!

So, last night I took my Nyquil (like a big girl) and said to myself…SELF!…you need to get rid of that shitz REAL FAST!

I am very happy to report that Richard (Dick for short) has indeed left the building, my head is clearing up and I am a MUCH better woman for it.

[incoming text message]

"I think you got me you filthy animal."

Good thing, seeing as I gave my husband my man cold.

So, please, for the love of Garth (not his real name) take care of yourselves, have a fantastic weekend (yes, ALL 3 of you) and if anyone needs me I'll be upstairs pretending to be asleep.

Until then I remain forever yours,

Richardless

© 2003 – 2012 This Full House

February 17, 2012
As I See It, The Difference Between Envy and Jealousy is Most Likely a Nice Shade of Turquoise

My 16yo dreams of being a famous photographer and it shows.

I'm a pretty tolerant mom. I don't have very many rules when it comes to my kids picking and choosing their friends. In fact, if anything, my husband and I try to encourage our children to be as open-minded and non-judgmental as they would want others to be.

Until, one of them has a falling out and, well, easier said than done, right?

On the one hand, it's difficult to remain objective while watching your child's heart break, as she drenches your shoulder with snot, believing that the world is indeed coming to an end and not want to rip their so-called bestie a new one.

Then again, speaking as an adult (mostly) it's a little easier to understand that we each carry our own pain which, more often than not, influences the decisions we make in life, good and/or bad.

Until, someone I care about inadvertently breaks my heart and, well, have you seen The Grudge?

A black, inky sort of BLECH! creeps over my insides and NO amount of bleach or disinfectant can keep me from being swallowed up by its toxicity.

I could always blame it on the winter blues. Or, being a woman (enough said) and claim jealousy on their part. Then again, I cannot honestly admit that I have never been envious of others, for reasons that would probably sound very silly or childish, to say out loud, anyway.

"So, have you spoken to So-and-So since, well, you know?"

Then, one of my kids turns around and says something profoundly adult-ish, like this:

"No, I've come to the decision that no matter what I do it will NEVER be good enough."

Aaaaaand, I WANT TO BE JUST LIKE HER when I grow up.

Morale of the Story: Never miss an opportunity to make others happy, even if you have to leave them alone to do it.

Then again, happiness is highly subjective (I think) and thank goodness for small favors, right?

© 2003 – 2012 This Full House

February 15, 2012
Valentine’s Day Movie Meme: 14 Memorable Chick Flick Moments

Oh, HEY! Guess what? Tomorrow is Valentine's Day (SURPRISE!) so, rather than bore you with details of my ultrasound of the killer kidney stone from hell (you're welcome!) I thought it would be fun to participate in a meme in which I get to share my 14 favorite chick flick moments .

Because, I am ALL about bringing the fun back into blogging.

[sound of crickets, chirping]

Oh, c'mon! You like romantic comedies, right? No? That's okay. You get to be the one in charge of trashing this list. It'll be GREAT fun! Ready?

1. What is your favorite romantic comedy?

50 First Dates: I love this movie. Truth be told, a lot of my favorite romantic comedies star Drew Barrymore. The woman is so gosh-darned likable in ALL of them (DAMMIT!)

FAVORITE BIT: (Dr. Keats) Tom lost part of his brain in a hunting accident. His memory only lasts ten seconds. (Ten Second Tom) I was in an accident? That's terrible. (Dr. Keats) Don't worry, you're totally gonna get over it in about three seconds. (Ten Second Tom) Get over it? I mean, what happened? Did I get shot in the brain… Hi. I'm Tom.

(more…)

February 13, 2012
Why, Yes, My Holiday Decorations Are STILL Up, I’m Still Waiting for a White Christmas, Okay?

I'm not a big fan of January. Although, I don't mind bundling up under a cozy blanket or the way my kitchen smells when my older girls get on their baking kick (DAMMIT!) oh, and how the sky and stars seem so much brighter, especially at night.

I'm not sure if I can explain it other than a feeling of anticipation, like something BIG is about to happen (good, bad, whatever) and then, you know, it doesn't.

Partly, because Mother Nature seems to be feeling the same way OR going all pre-menopausal and can't decide if she's hot or cold (I know how she feels, DAMMIT!) frankly, I think she's saving up and, maybe like the rest of Jersey, I'm just waiting for the other stiletto to fall.

In the meantime, I've got a houseful of my own crazy to deal with and I just wish the woman would make up her mind, you know?

Then the wench goes and turns the lights on this morning and, well, DAMMIT, just like a woman, eh? Now what am I going to complain about?

I know, I'll just go ahead and get a jumpstart on my spring cleaning.

[one beat, two beats]

Heh, so, how long did it take for you to see right through that piece of fibbery?

Actually, I'm going to work on taking down the Christmas lights and maybe even the last of the indoor decorations, too (don't judge) since, you know, Valentine's Day is just around the corner.

Although, at second glance, they do seem to have A LOT of red in them, don't the? So it's legal, right?

[sound of crickets, chirping]

Riiiiight. If anybody needs me, I'll be upstairs pretending that…WHY YES!…nutcrackers most certainly ARE an important part of Easter, or something.

© 2003 – 2012 This Full House

Freshly-Brewed Elsewhere: I am partnering with Hallmark as a Life is a Special Occasion blogger and will be sharing personal stories, insights and inspirations in enjoying simple, every day moments, with you (yes, YOU!) Like, did you ever forget your kid's birthday? I did (okay, almost!)

January 30, 2012
HALP! There’s ANOTHER Teenager in the House!

I remember when I first became the mother of a teenager — which, considering my oldest girl is 18 now (SOB!) truly is an amazing thing (that I even remember it, I mean!)

Then my middle girl turned 13 and, well, any thoughts of my ever regaining full brain function flew right out the front door, along with the Christmas tree.

Today, at precisely 2:05 a.m., my son joined the ranks of teenage-dom and not for nothing (word to Jenn) this time, it's different.

What a difference a year makes, eh?

I have to tell the boy to scootch down in order to scold him and, well, that's just not right, you know?

I'm 5' 9". Enough said.

CURRENT COUNT: Teens outnumber tweens 3 to 1 (HALP!) the latest having grown very adept at out-grossing his sisters with very realistic sounding fart noises during a sleepover with a few of his AXE-infused buddies, this past weekend.

At least, I think they were pretending. I was too busy trying not to puke and/or keep my head from exploding. I still don't think the girls are quite over it.

Me, either.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go and scrape a few of my brain cells from off of the ceiling and THEN maybe I can figure out a way to convince my 10 year-old daughter that burping the alphabet, during dinner with her grandparents, is SO NOT funny.

According to my son, blowing milk out of your nose during a conversation and pretending like it is NOT EVEN happening is way funnier.

© 2003 – 2012 This Full House

January 23, 2012
Perhaps Miyans Just Had Trouble Grasping the Concept of Menopause?

View outside my bedroom window this time last year.

I love this time of year — especially, how the peaceful tones cast by wintertime hues of soft whites and grays make everything look so much more sparkly and bright.

Until the snow starts to melt and the world begins to look like, you know, my living room carpet. Still, this time last year? Snowmaggedon had dropped nearly 3 feet of snow and, well, that's just too danged much sparkly even for my taste.

New Year's Eve on Higbees Beach in Cape May, NJ

This year? This was us. At the beach. In December. Here, in Jersey. Seems Muh-thuh Nay-chuh is going through some hot flashes, her ownself.

Speaking of which, is it hot in here, or is it just me?

Aaaanyway, winter is back (I think) so, yesterday we popped by my folks' house for a quick visit (code for: make sure they remember to, you know, turn the heat on) and tried to teach my dad the concept of American football for the eleventy-hundredth time.

Note to self: grown men tackling each other over a ball is "stew-peed," stop trying!

I've invited my in-laws over for dinner (code for: it's really, really hot at their house) and, considering we're probably going to get nailed with, like, eleventy-hundred inches of snow in March — tonight, I'm serving corned beef and cabbage, just in case.

Happy ValenSaintPatrickSpringter, everyone.

(P.S. GO GIANTS!!!!)

© 2003 – 2012 This Full House

January 16, 2012