This Full House Archive

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

  • HALP! I’ve Fallen & Can’t Stop Leaving Stupid Voicemails!

    I have trouble leaving voicemails….psssst, this is the part where you know, that I know, that you know, I'm a total dork, but act surprised, anyway….because, I'm always either losing my place, or start rambling in run-on sentences (shuddup!) insuring that the recipient will most likely never call me back and perhaps even unfriend me on Facebook, or worse, totally ignore me on Twitter.

    [sound of crickets]

    Social media can make some folks seem, I dunno, downright anti-social, sometimes, right?

    Aaaaaaanyway, there I was, day 5 of hanging out on the couch with my 9 year-old, holding her hair back while she hocked up goobers of mass destruction (you're welcome!) when I heard my cell phone ringing, causing yet ANOTHER parenting dilemma.

    Dooooooooooooooooooo I:

    A) Answer my cell phone, because, you know, it could be HGTV calling about my new dream home, or the Queen (woman never fails to call at the WORST possible times) most likely, it's my dear friend Melisa (with one S) for whom I would most definitely drop a call from the Queen (herself!) oh, she makes me laugh so (I mean, Melisa, not the Queen, but you knew that already, right?)

    B) Let it go to voicemail?

    NOBRAINER!  Besides, most every parent knows that hocking goobers of mass destruction is way different than fielding puke of projectile proportions…yes?

    Who knew that sitting on the couch, for 5 days, with a feverish kid, would atrophy one's muscles to the point of total skeletal fail?

    "Going down!"

    Also, consuming unusual amounts of caffeine will cause some folks to flail their working limbs and holler stuff you'd hear in an elevator….or Charlie Sheen's hotel room….whatever….bet you didn't know that either, huh?

    Turns out, it was Melisa (dangit!) so, I called her back and tried my best to leave a voicemail.  Really, I did.

    "[snort] Sorry [snort] but, you had to see me just now [snort] GOING DOWN! [uncontrollable laughter] then, she puked on the couch [snort] made her laugh so hard [choking back tears] gotta go [snort] it's Liz, by the way [deep breath] BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

    As if she couldn't figure out it was me….or, Charlie Sheen's long lost twin sister….twice removed….whatever….Melisa did eventually call me back (silly woman) but, she hadn't listened to my voicemail, yet.

    Soooooo, I repeated it, twice, and then she kindly suggested that perhaps it would be a good idea for me to, you know, lay off the coffee, for the remainder of the week.

    Maybe so, maybe so, still, there's nothing like sharing a little laughter, between friends, aaaaand, yes, oh how we laughed and laughed.

    [damned crickets are EVERYWHERE]

    Sorta reminded me of this:


    (Link) View more Voicemails Sound Clips and Attacking Old Ladies Sound Clips

    [grin]

    My work here is done. Go in pieces.

    © 2003 – 2011 This Full House

  • You Say Joisey, I Say What?!?

    Because, I am all about making blogging fun again (shuddup!) my friend NYCPatty posted an Accent Vlog and, well, dang if I can't hear it (her accent, I mean) because we live from across the river (or, the rivuh) from each other, I guess.

    I know, I know, vlogging's not my thing, either.  Still, it's better than another post about mommybloggers going rogue or, the friggin' weather (here, in Jersey) right?

    [cue the crickets]

    Riiiiiight.

    Here's mine:

    Okay, what'dya think; hear anything?

    [someone please shut those crickets up, already]

    Fiiiiiiiiiine.  Fughettaboutit!  Want to play along?

    If you want to follow along or do the Accent Vlog yourself, here are the words/questions:

    Aunt, Route, Wash, Oil, Theater, Iron, Salmon, Caramel, Fire, Water, Sure, Data, Ruin, Crayon, Toilet, New Orleans, Pecan, Both, Again, Probably, Spitting image, Alabama, Lawyer, Coupon, Mayonnaise, Syrup, Pajamas, Caught

    • What is it called when you throw toilet paper on a house?
    • What is the bug that when you touch it, it curls into a ball?
    • What is the bubbly carbonated drink called?
    • What do you call gym shoes?
    • What do you say to address a group of people?
    • What do you call the kind of spider that has an oval-shaped body and extremely long legs?
    • What do you call your grandparents?
    • What do you call the wheeled contraption in which you carry groceries at the supermarket?
    • What do you call it when rain falls while the sun is shining?
    • What is the thing you change the TV channel with?

    Personally, I'd love to hear from my Mid-West friends and, most especially, folks from the South, like, oh, I dunno, Nashville, or maybe even as far as Plano, TX, even…YO!

    In the meantime, have a GREAT weekend and if anybody needs me, I'll be upstairs, caulking holes and mopping floors, baby.

    Friggin' rain!

    2/28 UPDATED TO ADD:  Yay for BusyMom, Dawn, Melisa, Heather and Weasel Momma for playing along, with me, too!

    Now, it's your turn — help a dork (like me) make blogging fun, again — go ahead, you know you want to!

    © 2003 – 2011 This Full House

  • Parenting Tip #43,100,688:
    Don’t Have a Helmet, Get One!

    Helmut Head
    Besides, the fact that we are perhaps the only family, with four kids, and the youngest nearly in double-digits, who has never been to Disney World (meanies that we are) a lot of people seem to be surprised when they learn that my kids can't ride bikes, either.

    Without training wheels, I mean.

    I don't know why, really, I guess my kids just never really got into them and then scooters were a big thing, so, there's that.

    "I want to learn how to ride a bike!"

    My youngest, however, wants to learn how to do everything — especially, if she's the first kid in our family to, you know, do it.

    "Okay, maybe this summer."

    [hands on hips]

    "That's what you ALWAYS say!"

    Unfortunately, she wants everything, like, RIGHT NOW, nevermind that there's been snow on the ground for the last couple of, uh, what month is it, again?

    "What do you mean?"

    Because, you know, I'm quick like that.

    "Like, about the ladies stuff?"

    PSA:  About to head into female territory and references to lady parts will probably come up, once or twice.

    "Oh, that."

    Yes, I admit it, I've been putting off having "the talk," and with good reason, too!

    "I mean, I know what the pads are used for, already!"

    She is the youngest.  She also shares a bedroom (and bathroom) with her two oldest sisters.  The girl sees stuff, hears things, even when she's not supposed to and, well, at this point, I'm kind of worn out and really was hoping that maybe she'd sort of just, you know, figure it out.

    "It's so you could catch the pee you missed and sort of drips off, right?"

    [sound of crickets]

    Aaaaaand, so, Hope and I had a really nice chat, last night, and, I am happy to report that pee was not even mentioned.

    "Remember when I was little and you used to give me a bath?"

    [heavy sigh]

    "Aaaand, you pulled my pants off and I made you scream?"

    [eyes go wide]

    "Because, I wanted to be like Holly and Heather, so I put a pad on!"

    [bites lower lip]

    "Except, I put it on…sticky side up."

    Oh, yeah.  I forgot about that.

    "Aaaaand, you laughed so hard, you fell backwards and hit your head!"

    True story (it hurt!) and I'm sure it won't be the last time she tells it, either.

    "Why aren't you laughing, mommy?"

    Stupid puberty!

    © 2003 – 2011 This Full House

    FRESHLY-BREWED REVIEW: Breaking the Silence of Abuse, Depression and Suicide

  • And You Thought Soccer Moms Where Bad

    IGKYA
    My husband, Garth (not his real name) and I were thrilled to learn that our son joined the middle school wrestling team for a couple of reasons:

    • He's got 3 sisters
    • It gets him out of the house and away from me and his 3 sisters (okay, mostly me!)
    • He's been a big WWE fan since the 4th grade (I think!)
    • No tryouts (i.e. everyone makes the team!)
    • Refer to first two bullets, above

    Watching some other kid try and kick the living Axe out of my son, not so much.

    "Isn't that your son?"

    [cringe]

    "I'm not sure."

    Because, I was too busy covering my eyes and, well, cheese and rice, but I thought soccer was bad.

    Until, the other team gets a point.

    "Yep, that's him."

    The boy tries really hard and I tend to wonder if maybe I should be a little more aggressive in cheering him on, like soccer?

    "OUCH, you see how that kid's head bounced off the mat!"

    Wrestling, however, is much different.

    "Throw him down!"

    I'm not saying that wrestling parents are any better, or worse, than other sports families.

    "Throw him down…HARD!"

    It's just not the same, you know?

    "OUCH, that must of hurt!"

    So, I unlaced my fingers, pulled my hands away from my face, waited the few seconds for my eyes to adjust and realized…yep…it was indeed my son's head they were all waiting for to, you know, explode.

    "Get outta there!"

    I had my youngest on my lap and felt her startle a bit at, you know, my finally finding my voice (me, too!)

    "Like a wiggle worm, bud!"

    [eyes go wide]

    And, my friend, sitting next to me, punched me in my arm…HARD…and, you know, it hurt.

    "Are you trying to get your son beat up?"

    Aaaaand, only when my oldest, sitting on the other side of me, started laughing, did I finally realize that, you know, maybe soccer isn't so bad, after all.

    "….like a bad-assed, rabid, wiggle worm, bud!"

    Or, maybe, next time, I should just stay home and send my husband, instead?

    So, I did.

    "So, how'd it go?"

    Aaaaand, only when my son's frown, turned upside down (whoops, sorry!) I mean, gave the biggest mofo grin, did I realize that, you know, I was totally being faked out.

    "I WON!"

    [eyes go wide]

    Really?  After all these months of my, giving "That's okay," and "Maybe next time," late night, pep talks, driving home from yet another defeat?!?

    "DAMNIT!"

    [cringe]

    "I mean, I'm sorry I wasn't there to see it!"

    This is the last week of wrestling season and I can't say that I'm not a little thrilled to, you know, see it end.

    [cell phone rings]

    Yesterday was their last "home" meet and my friend called to tell me that it ended early (DAMMIT!) and if I wanted her to bring my son home.

    "Did we win?"

    [pause]

    "Uh, no."

    [one beat, two beats]

    "Yes, please!"

    What?  It's not like I forgot to pick my son up, on purpose, or anything, right…oh, and I guess soccer and wrestling are more alike…than I thought…huh?

    [sound of crickets, chirping]

    Stupid sports!

    © 2003 – 2011 This Full House

  • Parenting Tip #93,018,833:
    Perfect Hindsight is 20-20
    Give or Take a Lifetime

    Hindsight PhotoCredit: HeatherrMarie

    I have been accused of being an emotional person upon occasion, or twenty (I know, act surprised anyway, okay?) which means that I absolutely suck at Texas Hold 'Em.

    [eyes go wide, hands begin to shake, sweat beads form on upper lip]

    I'm ALL in, before all the cards are dealt, even.

    "CALL!"

    Which, of course, also means that I cannot fake my way through a situation, even if my insurance rates depended on it.

    "Why no, officer [hands being to shake] I didn't realize [sweat beads forming on upper lip] that my taillight was [GAH!!!!] yes, yes, I'm sorry, my left headlight is out, too!"

    My husband, Garth (not his real name) on the other hand, well, he has this philosophic calm about him and the way he handles confrontation.

    Which, of course, also means that he says totally nonsensical, idiomatic stuff, like, "It is what it is," and, "Can't ask a leopard to change its spots," or, my favorite "Six to one, half a dozen to another," NOT!

    Unless, you make me cry.

    [eyes go wide, hands begin to shake, sweat beads form on upper lip]

    Then, my friend, he is not above reading the riot act, to anyone, not even the Queen herself, as quick as you can say Jack Robinson, in the 3rd person, even.

    "All persons, being assembled, shall immediately disperse and peaceably depart to their habitations or to their lawful business on the pain of being guilty of an offense for which, on conviction, they may be sentenced to death by idioms, for life."

    [blank stare]

    "All-uh-yuhs, just get off her back, will yuhs!?!"

    Morale of the Story:  May you have the hindsight to know where you've been, the foresight to know where you are going and the insight to know when you have gone too far.

    Short Version:  Don't make my husband have to go all Jersey on your sorry ass!

    God Save the King of Idioms, Garth (not his real name) thanks for having my back, yesterday!

    Love always,

    The Queen of Dorks (herself!)

    © 2003 – 2011 This Full House

  • Feeling Squirrel-y?

    Damn Squirrels!
    I have issues (don't we all?) and, if you were to ask me to list, oh, I dunno, at least 5 of them, off the top of my head, they would be as follows:

    Dirty dishes in the sink:  especially, when the dishwasher is dirty.  Drives me nucking futz, to the point where even my neighbors know when, "THE DISHWASHER IS DIRTY…DAMMIT!

    Silent treatments:  are like nails ripping into chalkboard (you're welcome!) the absolute worst form of torture, right?

    Wet towels on the floor:  especially, when the washer is empty (see dirty dishes, above.)

    Doofus-Dog on the couch:  makes me itchy.

    Squirrels:  ransacking the bird feeders (see picture above) I hate, Hate, HAte, HATe, absolutely freaking HATE squirrels.  Aaaand, they don't like me, either.  How do I know?

    This morning, I was able to address 2 outta 5 of said issues, to my complete and total satisfaction.

    [blank stare]

    The fact my husband, Garth (not his real name) doesn't seem to have these sort of issues, is just plain weird, don'tcha think?

    © 2003 – 2011 This Full House

  • Breaking Bread

    Love Bread

    My 15 yo ripped into this piece of bread, right after the following conversation, and, well, it's a sign, I tell ya'!

    Soup.  Bread.  Growing up, these were the staples in my mother's pantry.  Today, at our house, they remain at the top of the food pyramid (yes, soup is a food group, dangit!) as a meal I am absolutely confident ALL four of my kids will eat, on purpose. 

    "What's for dinner?"

    [heavy sigh]

    "I DON'T KNOW!!!"

    Yes, I know, I'm using uppercase (AGAIN!) understand, that I've probably answered the question, three times, already and, well, judging by my middle girl's not skipping a beat, I really wasn't hollering, that loud.

    "Do we have any soup?"

    Of course.

    "Is it Mama's soup?"

    My mother's homemade chicken soup?  On a weekday?  SACRILEGE!

    "Mama makes some kick-butt soup!"

    Some days are better than others, to be sure (especially, with aging parents) and, truth be told, sometimes, conversations do tend to become tiresome (most especially, when being scolded, by your aging parents, at 40-something-or-another) but, it just wouldn't be Sunday, without it.

    "Yes, yes she does."

    On the other hand, swallowing one's pride, every now and again, can be sort of healthy for you, too, right?

    "But, no, it's not Mama's soup."

    That, my friends, is what Sundays are made for. 

    "Okay, but do we have bread?"

    Always.

    "I just LOVE bread!"

    Me, too.

    © 2003 – 2011 This Full House

  • The Maude Squad

    The Maude Squad
    WHAT?!?  I know.  But, it's been a looooooooooooong, cold, winter and, well, the novelty of playing in the snow has worn off, two storm systems ago, to the point where my two youngest are actually, you know, playing with their Christmas gifts.

    Please understand that I am in no way advocating gun play…for real…my children are old enough to know the difference and, as you can see, they are also wearing protective eye gear.

    Okay, now that we're clear, continue making yourself comfortable and let's talk about sex education.

    [the sound of many doors, slamming]

    Believe me, having had the talk and embarrassing my two oldest children with stories of how my Eastern European-raised parents and I, you know, did NOT talk (about sex, or anything to do with one's body, from the neck, down, I mean) hence, my believing that…OMG!…French kissing WILL get you pregnant…so, yeah, trust me…I know how you feel!

    Personally, I sort of like reinforcing the fact that we, older parental-type units have our hangups, too.

    It's hard, you know?

    On the one hand, I want to be totally open with my children (sort of) then, again, it's hard to decide how much information they really need to hear, or not.  Not to mention, control when, where and who they, you know, hear it from (DAMMIT!)

    So, we were watching The Golden Girls the other night.

    SLAM!

    WHAT?!?  I know.  But, they also enjoy watching the History Channel, along with Broadway musicals on PBS (yes, WITH ME!) and, well, I believe in providing my children with a well-balanced television viewing experience, too (i.e. no iCarly…EVER!)

    "What's impotent mean?!?"

    Et tu, Golden Girls?

    "Go ask Daddy."

    WHAT?!?  I already had the talk…twice…YES!…with my son, too! 

    It's time my husband, Garth (not his real name) ponied up a little help from his end of the gene pool, too.

    His explanation?

    "You know how what happens sometimes when you first wake up in the morning?"

    Oh, wait, this IS gonna be good!

    "Well, when a person is impotent, it sometimes doesn't happen, anymore."

    [eyes go wide]

    "You mean…THEY CAN'T PEE ANYMORE?!?"

    SNORT!

    Yes, I mean, NO, I explained it a little better (I think!) after I stopped laughing, long enough to blow my nose, compose myself and, you know, speak, of course!

    "Mommy, what's impotent mean?"

    My 9 year-old daughter, not so much.

    "Something we can talk about…later!"

    WHAT?!?  It does NOT get any easier.  I mean, seriously, they don't start teaching sex education until the 5th grade and, well, she IS my youngest and probably knows way more than I do, already.

    [sound of crickets chirping]

    Wonder what's on Biography, tonight?

    © 2003 – 2011 This Full House

  • You See, This is EXACTLY Why I Love Reading Other People’s Blogs!

    Let the Sunshine In

    It's been a rough couple of days/weeks/months here at This Full House of sticky socks and crunchy feet. 

    Without going into too much detail (you're welcome!) for fear of boring you to the point where you experience permanent decrease in vision, or your head explodes (I know, too late, stay with me here, just a little longer, okay?) it's just the typical drama that goes along with living in close quarters, in the wintertime and raising kids, who are old enough to, you know, talk back.

    Which, in the long term, is a good thing, seeing as my children will most definitely display brilliant moments of absolute resilience or, at the very least, be able to hold their own in a conversation.

    Me, not so much.

    I'm just too gosh-darned tired to argue and, may the parenting gods on high forgive me, but, I sort of like it when I hear other seemingly rational and somewhat more educated people, you know, complain about their kids.

    Inevitably, the guilt sets in, hard, and typically in the darkest of moments — like, hearing when a family in one of our schools suddenly loses a child — and, well, I just can't imagine living without either one of mine.

    Until, the next time my oldest is running late, my son leaves his jacket behind, or my youngest interrupts a conversation, while my husband, Garth (not his real name) and I try to convince my middle girl that parents are NOT, you know, as dumb as we seem (which is most days, btw) well, every day, it's something, right?

    [sound of crickets chirping]

    So, there I was, just sitting here, at my desk, minding my own business (sort of) reading other people's blogs (hence, last parenthesis) when the most amazingly fantastical thing happened.

    The sun came out.

    Then, suddenly…um…uh…funny, I sort of forgot what the heck was bothering me in the first place.

    Aaaaand, well, I just love that, you know?

    Happy Love Thursday!

    UPDATED TO ADD:  Due to a sports-related emergency (Gatorade blew up in son's gym bag) he found his jacket in the front office, today (YAY!) but, seems to have misplaced one of his wrestling shoes (Ummmmm) bet you didn't know they cost an arm (possibly a leg, even) or, that there was such a thing as wrestling shoes, either, right?!?

    © 2003 – 2011 This Full House

  • Parenting Tip #13,100,785:
    Anything Boys Can Do, Girls Can Do Better!
    Unless You Live in Our House
    Or, Happen to Play the Clarinet!

    TFH Kids Cook

    Hey, look, finally, a post that has absolutely NOTHING to do with the weather (anyone mentions anything about snow and the ground hog gets it!) however, I will say that we're each getting a little sick (and tired) of all the closeness, around here.

    "Girls go to college to get more knowledge!"

    Especially, my two youngest children.

    "But, boys go to Jupiter to get more stupider!"

    See what I mean?

    "That's not right!"

    Thank goodness, the two oldest girls have my back.

    "You mean, more stupid!"

    Sort of.

    "Keep it up and ya'll going to Jupiter!"

    Long story, short (you're welcome) at our house, the war of girls vs. boys has been going on for quite some time now and, well, if you ask me, it really doesn't matter (whether you're a boy, or girl, I mean) they're ALL driving me nucking futs, too!

    "Smart Alec said that playing the clarinet is stupid!"

    Et tu minivan? 

    "What did you say?"

    Hope's first choice was to play the flute [cringe] but, I told her maybe the clarinet would be, you know, way cooler, considering there really aren't enough female clarinet players in the world.

    "I told him maybe he should think about playing the clarinet, then!"

    [snort!]

    "How many clarinets does it take to change a light bulb?"

    Either way, it just occurred to me, that I forgot to ask what instrument Smart Alec plays.

    "Clarinets don't have light bulbs, STUPID!"

    Then again, I guess it really doesn't matter.

    "Hey, you just passed our house!"

    Lalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalala.

    "Where are you taking us, Mom?

    [blows bangs out of eyes]

    "Next stop….JUPITER!"

    Stupid ground hog!

    © 2003 – 2011 This Full House