This Full House Archive

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

  • Owning My Words and Radical Thinking Since 2003

    There are days when the words come easy.  Thoughts and images flash before my eyes in rapid succession, gaining speed as inspiration begins to flow down to my fingertips.

    Then, the sentences begin to run on and on, reluctantly separated by a few commas and semi-colons, throw in a couple of parenthesis (for good measure) and, well, it doesn't take long for even me to realize that, you know, I am NOT the greatest writer in the world.

    Far from it.

    Still, I keep writing; putting a face to my thoughts, searching for peace of mind, a quiet escape, or seeking comfort in the slightest hints of validation and (in some cases) sharing the best part of me that very few people get a chance to see, IRL.

    Today is not one of those days.

    You see, integrity was a part of my vocabulary (limited as it may seem) long before it was cool.

    Thoughts of "owning ones words" and allowing for "open-ended discussions" are not progressively new ideas to me, or the community I've come to admire and adore (I LOVE YOU, MAN!)

    Owning up to our imperfections and learning from one's mistakes, however, has turned some of us into quite the radical thinkers.

    This week, in particular, is a harsh reminder of the price that some of us are UNWILLING expected to pay, in the name of the collective right and higher thinking.

    I've spoken to way too many friends, who (like me) are questioning their place in this big, green (blue, purple, red, whatever) blog world of ours, for quite a while now and, after nearly driving my family deaf, thinking out loud about it (seriously, they're like SHUDDUP!) I've come to a decision.

    SHUDDUP and blog, already.

    No matter what side of the fence you're on, or whether you admit to liking Diet Pepsi (for me, it's Diet Coke!!!) or how many dramas play out (frankly, I'm not naive enough to think that this will be the last) one thing remains true.

    The power of the blogging community should not be dismissed, nor should it be taken advantage of either!

    1Imperfect and as uneducated as it may be (disclosure:  no, I do not have a college degree) I still believe in this bright, bold and sassy community of moms (and dads) who blog and view this unfortunate turn of events as simply just another step in learning to use our blogging powers for good, in a totally informed and responsible way.

    The alternative?  Use it as an opportunity to tear some poor schmuck a new one, online for all to see, or delete them from our feed readers, entirely, for not knowing any better…than you.

    Then again, I'm just another mommyblogger (an old one, at that, I know, SHUDDUP!) and I'm probably wrong, anyway, right?

    1Last Disclosure:  My entire blogging platform is and always has been based on putting a face to imperfection.  So, I feel it safe to say that…YES…I am a professional!

    © 2010 This
    Full House Blog     / This Full House Gone Shopping

  • I See a Gray Hair
    And I Want to Dye it Black!


    Liz channeling Joan Jett
    So, I did — aaaaand chopped it ALL off, too — 'cawse, us forty-something-or-another moms are edgy and totally reckless like that.

    AM SO!

    LINKY LOVE BYTES:

    Check out the Official Wordless Wednesday HQ

    Wordless Wednesday on 5 Minutes for Mom

    Tag,
    you're it:  

    © 2010 This
    Full House Blog     / This Full House Gone Shopping

  • 7 Truths About 7 Bloggers, Maybe

    VersatileBloggerAward
    Having recently entered my 8th year of blogging (I know, I'm old, shuddup!) I feel it safe to say that…why, YES!…I am very, very versatile (AM SO!) and not because my friend Mrs. Schmitty said so, either.

    [throws check in the mail]

    Coming up with new, light-hearted and entertaining stuff to write about is hard (I know, sorta hurts to read, too — sheesh, but Monday's a ROUGH crowd!) keeping in mind that not EVERYONE who stops by here is necessarily interested in reading about non-controversial stuff (I know, act surprised, anyway) or, the fact that it just so happens my blog is ranked #1 on Google for, "it's your birthday make a mess" is even harder (yes, it's a word!)

    Still, there are those who would beg to differ (I'm not quite sure what is wrong with them, either) and I am very, very, honored to be able to call them…my friends!

    No payment, necessary.

    So, yah, I am very pleased to accept The Versatile Blogger Award (thank you and please don't cash that check until Friday, okay Mrs. Schmitty?) and now I'm supposed to tell you 7 truths about myself and then pay my award forward to 7 bloggers.

    [the sound of many doors, SLAMMING!]

    Are they gone yet?

    [phew]

    Good.  Aaaand, if you're STILL here, well, just know that there is a special place in heaven (or, a close facsimile thereof) for those who indulge professional dorks, like me.

    So, for your reading pleasure, 7 Truths About 7 Bloggers…Maybe:

    (more…)

  • Breast Cancer Awareness Month:
    Happy Army of Women Day!

    Army of Women tagI have a confession to make (don't worry, no bodily fluids are involved!) okay, ready?

    It's been 5 years since my last check-up!

    It's true.  You see, I've been busy.  Participating in blogging projects, or reminding families (like mine) to think pink; but, could only watch, hope and pray, while my twin brother fought valiantly and gave up one of kidneys, in order to win his battle with cancer; last month, I sat next to my SIL's hospital bed, held her hand and prayed some more.

    No, I am NOT proud of the fact that I have, once again, put my health and well-being…last.

    Then, yesterday, I read WhyMommy's post calling on women (like me) to use our blogging powers for good and it moved me to action:

    I'm asking you to join the Avon/Love Army of Women
    fighting breast cancer by signing up for emails about future studies,
    and participating in easy, online studies or studies in your hometown
    when something applies to you — and to blog about your decision, asking your readers to as well.

    Army of Women
    Okay, now it's your turn — don’t have a blog? No problem!  You can still TAKE ACTION by updating your Facebook status on October 1st with the following:

    “I
    signed up to STOP breast cancer before it STARTS. Have you? Join today
    at http://www.armyofwomen.org, then copy and paste this status update
    as your own.”

    Why?

    Because, nice matters and cancer sucks big, fat, hairy donkey balls!

    Me?

    Twitter gynoI have an appointment for next Thursday.  Thank you, Susan!

    © 2010 This
    Full House Blog     / This Full House Gone Shopping

  • Home is Where Your Drywall Hangs

    TyPennington
    We are ALL major Ty Pennington fans (okay, mostly me) so, last night, the kids and I settled in on the couch and watched the premiere episode of Extreme Makeover: Home Edition.

    The design team surprised the Boys Hope/Girls Hope chapters in Baltimore — you can watch it here, if you, you know, feel like having your heart squished.

    "You crying already, Mom?"

    Not even five minutes into the show, man, and I was reaching for the Kleenex.

    Then, Ty let the families know that Girls (and Boys) Hope will be getting full four-year college scholarships (including room, books and board) this time, my kids were reaching for the Kleenex and I think a couple of them even started to cry.

    "Maybe we should apply to be on the show, Mom!"

    Oh, if I had a dollar for each time I wished (out loud) for Ty to come crashing through the drywall, well, it would be nice to actually quit using our garage…as a basement.

    Never mind, worrying about how in the heck we're sending our kids to college.

    "There are A LOT of people who need help more, right Mom?"

    Always.  Still.  It WOULD be nice not to explain that, you know, we don't decorate in early drywall…on purpose. 

    Then, Ty started interviewing the families.

    "We never let my daughter know that we couldn't afford to send her to college."

    I grabbed another tissue and cursed myself (in my head) for not thinking and doing the same thing. 

    Oh, it's NOT like we're going around saying stuff like:

    Heather:  "I want to go to Boston University."
    Holly:  "I'd like to go to Italy and study art."
    Glen:  "I want to go to Rutgers."
    "Me:  Well you can ALL just FUHGHETABOUTIT!"

    But, practically speaking:

    Me:  "That WOULD be nice, maybe, I dunno, we'll see."

    Then, my youngest (she's 9) snuggled in closer.

    "Well, I love my home."

    [bites lower lip]

    "I think our house is perfect for us, right mommy?"

    [squish]

    I do now.  And, if I didn't, I certainly would NOT say it (out loud) not anymore.

    "You need 'nother tissue, Mom?"

    Hang the drywall, stupid economy!

    © 2010 This
    Full House Blog     / This Full House Gone Shopping

  • So, This Housewife Answers the Door
    (Dude, stop me if you’ve already heard this one!)

    I.M.N. Ass

    I know, I know, I said it…housewife…it's a bad word…however, rather than get into a debate on whether stay-at-home mom is any better (honestly, I really don't give two bon-bons about labels) say what you want, just, don't call me desperate.

    Unless, we're all out of coffee AND milk [shiver] or, the microwave explodes AND takes the toaster with it.

    What?  It can happen, trust me.

    Aaaaanyway, I work from home…BAH!…there I go again…okay, so, like do working moms stop working, you know, once they get home from work?  

    Color me confused (preferably, in a soft and slightly muted tone, like, heather gray) but, I thought we were ALL passed the, I know you are, but what am I, sort of thing.

    Until, yesterday.

    (more…)

  • Parenting Tip #3,100,188:
    Don’t Worry, They’re Wrong
    It Does NOT Get Any Easier!

    Yes, but she may NOT fall either!
    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):

    • there's a pile of mail on my desk I need to go through (it'll be there tomorrow)
    • not to mention laundry (it NEVER ends)
    • 2 of my kids have stuff that don't fit (boys don't care and the girl can borrow stuff from the other 2)
    • closets haven't been changed (good thing, it's gonna be 90 degrees tomorrow)
    • garage isn't cleaned out (because, we're STILL not finished renovating the kitchen)
    • kitchen is STILL not renovated (see above)
    • dining room STILL needs refinishing (because, my room STILL needs wallpaper, the boys room painting… etc…)

    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?

    © 2010 This
    Full House Blog     / This Full House Gone Shopping

  • Don’t Knock Knock It, If you Haven’t Washed and Dried It!

    Glen's Grand Poetry
    Kids.  They WILL say the funniest things and, more often than not, parents ARE their main source of entertainment.

    Knock knock.  Who's there?  Repeat.  Repeat who?  Who. Who. Who. Who. Who. Who. Who.

    Aaaaand, well, you get it, right?

    Knock knock.  Who's there?  Kanga.  Kanga Who?  No.  Kanga ROO!

    Oh, we pretend laugh (or, not) and act like, you know, we've never, EVER heard that one, before.

    Knock knock.  Who's there?  Cows.  Cows who?  No.  Cows go MOO!

    [heavy sigh]

    Glen's Pic of TFH Happiness is…your family.  They're the people you love.

    Then, they learn how to write and, well, all that pretend laughing you did seems to have paid off.

    Until, you turn to the page.

    Glen's Xbox Happiness is…an Xbox.

    Doesn't matter that in 2006 (when my son wrote this entry into his 1st grade book binding project) we did NOT even have an Xbox.

    Glen's Playdates Happiness is…friends.  I like to have play dates with them.

    Or, that we don't have any machetes (not in the house, anyway) or, swords [looks closer] okay, but it's a PRETEND light saber!

    [heavy sigh]

    Either way, a teacher once told me (please, don't ask me which one; we're talking approx. 80 parent teacher conferences, over here):

    I'll believe half of what your child tells me about you, if you believe half
    of what your child says about me.

    Until, my son (he's in 6th grade, now) showed me his homework – write a set of directions; it could be how to get to your house, of a recipe, or how to play a video game – and guess which one he picked?  Go ahead.  I'll wait.


    This Full House the Game.

    This Full House (the game) Directions:  You have my mom and you must walk around picking up clothes to put in the laundry.  While the clock is ticking down you must put more and more clothes in to add on time.  If time runs out you lose!

    At least, he got this one right and, well, his penmanship has improved, considerably, don'tcha think?

    [sound of crickets chirping]

    So, um, anyone heard any good knock knock jokes, lately?

    [blows bangs out of eyes]

    'Cawse, next week is back-to-school night (4 of them, to be exact) and I got nothin'!

    © 2010 This
    Full House Blog     / This Full House Gone Shopping

  • Bringing the Dumb

    Ihavedumb

    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.

    Love 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.

    Love Note 2
    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?

    © 2010 This
    Full House Blog     / This Full House Gone Shopping

  • Barefoot Parenting
    (Pants ARE optional!)

    Finding Balance Playing the concentration game, on the fitness trail, while being bombed with acorns by militant squirrels, it's a gift.

    Balance.  Either you have it, or you don't.  Then again, maybe you're one of those people who, over the years, have taken one too many nose dives into the asphalt and learned to NOT over-complicate a situation by, you know, wearing shoes.

    [sound of crickets chirping]

    Roots 2
    No?  Okay. Perhaps you're one of THOSE people who stop, look back and are all like…WHOA!…did you see that?!?  Then swear that it came straight out of the ground (whatever it was) grabbed you by the ankles and, you know, face meets asphalt, the end.

    [cricket]

    Allllllrighty then.

    "Shouldn't you be wearing shoes?!?"

    Roots

    Me?  I used to wear heels.  Until, I had kids.  Now, I have enough trouble strutting my stuff on the sidewalk (without falling down) or, maybe it's my bohemian roots, beginning show (among other, more grayish ones, I mean) and perhaps, I should just change my name to Agador Spartucus.

    "Shoes make me fall down!"

    Dual-survival
    Who knows?  Since turning 40-something-or-another (closer to another, if you must know, DAMMIT!) maybe, I'm just getting back in tune with the earth (ahem!) like that hippie dude on Dual Survival and his…um…friend…who sort of remind me of an old married couple (cough!) with kids (cough, cough!) but, DAYUM if they don't make for entertaining television.

    Balance Act
    Hey.  Hang on.  There's a novel idea.  Perhaps I should start evangelizing the benefits of "barefoot parenting!"

    Dual Fitness

    You know, I can be the minimalist and primitive skills expert, trained in counterbalanced living and suburban preparedness…like, yes, she's texting (AGAIN!) but, they ARE outside and what if one of them breaks an arm, or something, right?

     

    Pull Your Pants Up
    With 17 years of combined tween and teenage survival experience…like, yes, he's wearing low rise, skinny-something-or-another…but…um…at least, he's NOT playing a video game, right?

    Pull Your Pants Up, DAMMIT!!!

    Balance.  It's ALL a matter of perspective.  Sure, I can insist he pull his pants up (DAMMIT!) then again, this picture wouldn't be half as funny and, more importantly, just fade into yet another missed opportunity in increasing my "Break curfew again, bub and I'll show your girlfriend," arsenal, to boot!

    "Um, mom?"

    Maybe THEN the Discovery Channel will give me my OWN show!

    "Mom?"

    Aaaand, I will FINALLY get to go to an island!

    "Mommy?"

    Where no one cares who you are (or, aren't) where you are from (originally) and that you weigh more than what's on your driver's license (ahem) or, that you've worn white (AFTER Labor Day) with pink underwear (cough) and forgot to shave your legs, AGAIN!

    "Mom?"

    Oh, but there IS a bed (dogless, catless, hairless and MATCHING pillows) a VERY large bathroom (with a double sink) with room service (a sun-kissed-20-something-or-another with, dark eyes and a wicked tan) giving you undivided attention and an endless supply of fruity cocktails…FOR FREE!

    "Mommy?"

    Aaaand maybe then (and ONLY then) will the tired, frustrated and gravity-challenged parents of the world (like me) truly unite and achieve GREATNESS!!!

    "Mooooommeeeee!"

    [blink, blink]

    "It's okay that you're driving in your pajamas, right?"

    Momma's in Pajamas Again!

    Except on Mondays, then ALL bets are off, DAMMIT!!!

    © 2010 This
    Full House Blog     / This Full House Gone Shopping