This Full House Archive

Category: Raising Teens, Tweens & Killer Dust Bunnies

  • Nobody Puts Baby in the Dentist Chair

    I hate the dentist.  What?!?  You, too!!!  Seriously, the word Novocaine alone (for me, a dozen pokes, per tooth, minimum) or the thought of anything even remotely associated with drilling a hole, anywhere, is enough to bring a shiver down my spine!!!

    BBBBBRRRRRZZZZZ!!!

    [shiver]

    My middle girl (she's 15) however, couldn't care less, seeing as she's had:

    • Tonsils removed in 2006
    • Was filleted like a fish, from behind, at the base of her spine, to, um, let's just say Heather spent her 13th birthday, during Christmas week, getting used to sleeping on her side (shiver!)
    • It took 18 months, 1 emergency hospital visit and 3 more cauterizations before it FINALLY healed (we hope!)
    • Unlike her oldest sister, needed 4 teeth pulled before being fitted for braces, last year

    So, yeah, Heather's had more blood tests, shots and parts of her body violated by doctors, than me, my husband AND my other kids, combined.

    Did I mention, said doctors happened to be training medical students, at the time, like, in "UGH, really Mom, I mean, I don't even know what MY butt looks like!?!?"

    Although, her father and I like to kid her about being spared less beatings, than her siblings, considering she DOES have the MOST expensive backside (heh!)

    Of course, I kid (sort of) and no, she STILL doesn't find that last sentence, humorous, at all, either, trust me.

    Aaaaanyway, so, I took my youngest kids to the dentist office (FINALLY!) since my oldest kids visit their ortho practice AND because, you know, we LOVE sending OTHER people on vacation.

    [grin]

    They were both a little nervous (me, too!) but, Hope went first (of course!) and then the dentist got down to the nitty-gritty.

    "Blah, blah, blah, slight decay in number blah and blah, also in numbers blah and blah."

    Okay, not for nothing, but I just thought of ANOTHER word that makes me shiver.

    Decay.

    [shiver]

    Poor thing sat there, EYES WIDE, just like that and, honestly, the last dentist just sort of did whatever, made a cool balloon-ey sort of animal, out of a latex glove, gave her a pencil and sent us on our way.

    "We'll have to fix those, right away!"

    This one threw his gloves away.  Then he left.  I'm not sure I like this dentist. 

    So, I whispered to the dental hygenist, just in case.

    "Does decay mean the same thing as cavaties?"

    [eyes go REAL wide]

    "I HAVE CAVATIES?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?"

    PHEW!!!  Hope's hearing, however, seems just fine.  Still, none of my other kids have ever had cavaties (Glen's checkup went fine) so, there's that.

    "Yes, but they're just teeny-tiny ones."

    I do, however, like the dental hygienist. 

    "It's ALL your fault, Mom!"

    Backstory:  Hope went to her first sleepover, called to tell me I packed the wrong toothbrush and I told her to use it anyway, seeing as she is the youngest and, you know, I'm tired.

    [sound of crickets]

    Yeah, the dental hygienist gave me that same exact look, I bet you dollars to donuts, that you're giving me, right now.

    "Baby, it will be alright, trust me."

    Aaaaand, how do I know?  Well:

    • I made the appointment
    • Her Dad is going to take her
    • NO, he doesn't know about it yet, either

    [shiver]

    Enough said.

  • Why Worry When You Can Confuse the Forces of Evil, Instead?!?

    A lot of stuff has been going on, here at Casa de Stinky.  What?!?  You, too?!?  DANG, when will it EVER end, right?!?

    Aaaaanyway, in an effort to not think about stuff (stinky as it is) I tend to move things around. 

    Like, oh, I don't know, shifting chairs, hanging curtains, taking down and rehanging pictures, you know, the little things that require very little physical effort, almost no financial backing or filing of anymore loan applications (UGH!) simple little stuff that just sort of makes me want to, you know, smile.

    Dining Room Corner 1
    Aaaaand, confuses the forces of evil into thinking:  OUCH!…hey, when DID this bookcase get here…didn't we JUST trip over it, in the garage…and LOOK…in and out bins…really…SHE'S GOT BINS…heh, and a coat rack…good luck with that one, right?!?

    [smiling]

    Still, she IS smiling…so, I guess, we best be moving on then, eh…wanna go cause some havoc in the garage, then?!?

    I know, I know, it goes against ALL things Fen Shui (DAGNABIT!) but, as of this week, every corner of my house is officially FULL of stuff and, yet, I somehow find myself gravitating to this one, throughout the day.

    Dining Room Corner 2
    I like to think of it as a little nook of inspiration, decorated simply with my latest dollar store finds and flanked on the right by a picture of my grandmother, someone who my kids adored and miss, very, very much.

    Me, too.

    Also, see how the geraniums in the window are reflected in the photograph?  They were my OTHER grandmother's favorite flower.  So, yeah, weird, right?

    Dining Room Corner 3
    Yes, my house is small.  No, we still don't have any idea when we'll EVER get the stupid chimney fixed, or ceiling, for that matter, oh and the front door is STILL leaking, GAH!

    This. THIS!  It's what my kids and I will see, every morning.  The first place we'll come to and drop our stuff (hopefully) at the end of each day.

    "Oh no, I forgot my speech!"

    My 10 year-old is running for student council president and, well, she also dreams of being an archaeologist, a scientist, or yoga instructor (???) whatever.

    "It's in the dining room."

    Well, at least she knew EXACTLY where it was, so there's that, right?  RIGHT?!?

    [sound of crickets]

    Riiiiight.

    "I read it to Mamama, last night."

    [smiling]

    Enough said.

    © 2003 – 2011 This Full House

  • Eye of the Tiger Mom

    My oldest daughter is a senior in high school…hang on, while I allow that to sink in or, at least, until I stop shivering…okay, that's better, thanks.

    Aaaaanyway, there is nothing…and I mean ABSOLUTELY NADA…that will bring even the most light-hearted of parental units…crashing back down to earth…faster than a high school graduation and/or college looming over your head.

    Aaaaand, the perverbial glass ceiling being…I am her mother.

    "I need a baby picture for the year book!"

    You've heard of Manic Mondays, right (Bangles, 1986, look it up on Youtube, youngster!)

    "Um, okay, when do you need it?"

    Well, at our house, we celebrate Frantic Fridays.

    "Deadline is today."

    Of course.  Why not?  Never mind that her father is in the car, waiting, or that she should have been at school, 10 minutes ago, OH, and I have absolutely NO CLUE where her baby book is OR if it's even finished.

    Holly June 1994
    Luckily, my youngest (a.k.a. The Informer) pulled this pic pretty much out of nowhere (a'la Houdini) and, well…hang on another second…or 60,000…as my mind begins to race:

    • Was she EVER that little?!? 
    • Did I remember to pack away those adorable baby shoes?!? 
    • What in the world possessed me to get rid of that hat?!?
    • I am SUCH a bad mother!!! 
    • Oh, look, how she's smiling, that's a good thing, right?!?

    The simple act of holding a photo and ALL this (and, MUCH, MUCH more) goes through my mind (it's a gift!)

    Revisiting stuff, like, maybe I should have done [insert stuff] differently.

    Or, stuff I didn't do, in the last almost 18 years, like, take her to Disney (I mean, really, every kid SHOULD go to Disney, right?!?)

    "Oh, look how cute I was."

    Still is (are?) albeit, frustratingly flighty at times and perpetually late…hey, wait a minute…apple, meet tree!!!

    "DUH-DUM..DUM-DUM-DUM…DUM-DUM-DUM…DUHHHHH-DUM!"

    Holly snatched the photo from my hand and I turned, a little too quickly (I suffer from severe internal bedhead, too) but, managed to grab my camera in time for the second chorus:


     

    The leaky roof, cracked ceilings, busted water heater, renovation projects that have gone unfinished for, well, uh, did I mention, we've got a kid, turning 18, next month (I think?!?)

    NOPE, wouldn't trade ANY of it…NADA!…at this very moment…for all the dry wall and/or spackle mud in the world.

    The fact that my 10-year-old even knew the words to Eye of the Tiger (Survivor, 1982, shuddup) which came out the same year I graduated high school?!?

    [shiver]

    PRICELESS and more than just a little freaky, right?!?

    © 2003 – 2011 This FULL House

  • Wordless Wednesday: Stolen Kisses

    You're Messing With His Cool! When teen girls mess with a 12-year-old boy's cool:  funny (i.e. future blackmail) family photos happen!

    Happy (Nearly) Wordless Wednesday, everyone!

    © 2003 – 2011 This FULL House

  • Aaaaand Now a One Act Play
    Performed by Two Turtles

    One of the many perks of raising older kids, besides the fact my husband and I have seen each of ours reach double digits and are STILL amazed at our even being able to, you know, count that high.

    Okay, mostly me.

    Aaaaanyway, we've tried to raise them to be independent, or at the very least, able to pretty much take care of themselves (get dressed, feed themselves, remember to brush their teeth, take their showers before bed and use soap, the last three being mostly for my son) if need be, and work as a team, if necessary.

    This week, the need be necessary.

    I have been in and out of the house, helping out a dear friend of mine, all week, in fact, I'm not home, right now.

    I was, for a few minutes, long enough to pack an overnight bag, kiss Garth (NHRN) when he got home from work (on the lips, REAL HARD!) and, well, then I left.

    On the one hand, it's nice to be able to focus my attention (used in the singular, on purpose) wherever it is needed the most, at any given moment.

    On the other hand, ummmm, what was I saying, again?

    Aaaaanyway, I bought my laptop along, thinking this would be the perfect time to catch up on reading some of your blogs and, in turn, allow you guys to, you know, help keep me amused (thankyouverymuch!)

    So, once my friend settled in for the night, I fired it up.

    Grrrr… even though we recently invested in a new desktop, my kids STILL insist on accidentally borrowing my laptop on purpose.

    Seriously, sometimes being away from home, alone, is good.

    Until, I read the note pinned to a new document:  Hope's Madlib, in case you get bored, I hope you like it.

    PATIENT: Thank you so very much for seeing me, Doctor Thompson, on such pretty notice.

    DENTIST: What is your problem, young Bruno?

    PATIENT: I have a pain in my upper big bow, which is giving me a severe belly ache.

    DENTIST: Let me take a look. Open your heart wide. Good. Now I'm going to tap your Gabi with my dog.

    PATIENT: Shouldn’t you give a cat killer?

    DENTIST: Its not necessary yet. Yeah! I think I see Walmart in your upper neck.

    PATIENT: Are you going to pull my earring out?

    DENTIST: No I'm going to sneeze your tooth and put in a temporary globe.

    Patient: When do I come back for the ugly filling?

    DENTIST: A day after I cash in your tennis ball.

    On the one hand, it's a simple little Madlib and, well, big deal, right? 

    On the other hand, the fact that it was supposedly performed by two turtles, yeah, doesn't change things much, unless, you know, they're naked (Gawd, I love that kid!)

    Thankmeverymuch.

    © 2003 – 2011 This Full House

  • I Give Good Face(s)

    My husband, the kids and I were ALL having a nice, quiet, leisurely dinner at the dining room table the other night.

    [blank stare]

    Okaaaaay, so, maybe the kids weren't actually at the table.

    [eyes go wide]

    Fiiiiiiine, they were all out eating at other people's houses.

    [taps foot]

    Buuuuut, my husband and I were eating…uh…standing up.

    [sound of crickets chirping]

    Aaaaanyway, my husband was in the middle of telling me a story about something that happened at his work the other day and then ended it, very abruptly.

    "What's the face for?"

    [blink, blink]

    Honestly, I wasn't even aware of my giving a face.

    "Which face?" 

    I can't help it.  Part of it stems from my being raised by Hungarians, a culture whose emotional heritability increases exponentially.

    "THAT FACE, right there!"

    Seems some of the kids were home…early…and immediately began to throw their mother (that would be me) right under the proverbial bus.  Apparently, I have six (6) distinct faces, which they then began to categorize, thusly:

    The Face Collage A-F 
    A = Awesome:  For those moments of pure joy and one that I would hope most folks are probably pretty much used to seeing, right?  RIGHT?  Riiiiight.

    B = Be Quiet:  One I use when fighting my inner-12-year-old or trying REAL HARD to keep my mouth shut (shuddup!)

    C = Catatonic:  Believe it or not, this is one of my least expressive faces which, come to find out, is a clear sign that I am NOT listening.

    D = DER!:  I've got teenagers, enough said.

    E = EWW:  My most multi-functional expression and can be easily translated from,"What's that smell?!?" to "Meh, I've seen hairier!"

    F = Fear Me:  Thankfully, I don't use this one very often (DO NOT!) but, one my kids, my husband, the dog and whoever else manages to bring out the Jersey in me (YO!) fear the most.

    Oh, and jackwagons  who insist on double-parking in the drop-off lane, THIS is the one you'll most likely see from your review mirror, complete with its own personalized set of eye baggage and everything!

    You feel me?

    © 2003 – 2011 This Full House

  • Serving as an Unspoken Example to My Children Since 2003

    I wrote my very first blog post 8 years ago (Happy Belated Blogivesary to me, heh) on September 2, 2003 (at 3:38 p.m.) and poop may or may not have been involved.

    My youngest was still in diapers and, well, it's understandable, really.  Raising 4 kids, under the age of 10, life revolved around my being the center of their world — handling poop was a large part of it — which, thanks to the internet, had just gotten a whole lot smaller.

    I now had the ability to communicate, with other people, over the age of 10, unwashed and in my pajamas (as far as anyone knew!)

    To be given the opportunity to put my thoughts (scattered and nonsensical, as they may have been) into actual words (thanks to spell check) blogging felt empowering AND downright intoxicating, really.

    Minus, the poop, of course.  Especially, for a self-professed, semi-professional, poop-handlers (like me) you know?

    We've shared a lot of stories in 8 years and, now that my kids are older (me, too) perhaps even managed to work in a title, involving just about every major bodily fluid and/or function known to the universe.

    Because, contrary to what most people think (about moms, who happen to write a blog, or twenty, too) it's not ALWAYS about the poop.

    "Grandma's on the phone and she sounds upset."

    My in-laws were in Massachusetts, on their way back home to Jersey, they got hit by another car and my husband could hear the emergency crew trying to get her side of the car open, they got there THAT fast (thank you Holyoke EMT!)

    While my husband showered and prepared to break the record for driving, round trip, thru MA, CT, NY and NJ traffic (enough said) in 9 hours (it CAN be done) my kids took to task.

    My middle girl Googled information for the local authorities, hospital and hotels, while the youngest wrote the information on sticky notes.

    Aaaand, for all the worries about kids today and their fascination with the internet (not to mention, the moms who blog about them) I have to say, it was nice to see mine use their cyberpowers for good in the time it took me to find my dumbass phone.

    Only, because my oldest used her cell phone to call it.

    Gramma & Grampa

    Then, she texted this picture to my husband's cell phone and, I am very,VERY happy to tell you, they are ALL back home and doing fine.

    Morale of the Story:  Potty-training is hard, raising tweens and teens is like [insert bodily fluid and/or function, of choice, here!] in the wind.

    Beeeeeecause, you NEVER know what's gonna get thrown back at you AND it's not always about the poop, anyway.

    Don't believe me?  Rather than telling you about the rest of our horrifically emotional weekend (you're welcome!) I did a quick search:  PUKE WINS!

    Aaaand thank YOU for allowing ME the chance to, you know, share.

    © 2003 – 2011 This Full House

  • My Karma Ran Over Your Dogwood!

    Last winter, you may or may not remember my telling you about the house next door.

    Miss Grace turned 103, this month (bless her hearty little, uhh, heart) so, about 2 weeks ago, I pulled into my driveway and saw our other neighbor cutting her grass.

    DANGIT!

    The 3 of us have very large properties (as in, DANG, but this grass got real long, didn't it?!?)

    I don't remember the EXACT measurement (that particular brain cell burned off about 2 kids ago, I think) but, I'm pretty sure we're about 300+ feet long, backdoor to end of mow-able backyard and, well, that's A LOT of grass clippings, my friend.

    Our riding mower is broken (of course!) and I can't very well sit by and watch our other neighbor, who works the night shift and coaches in the afternoons, cut Miss Grace's lawn when he could be, you know, sleeping.

    But, the self-propelled portion of our lawn mower is ALSO broken (I know, go ahead and act surprised anyway) making it more a non-moving lawn mower (as in, DANG, but Miss Grace has got a lot of shrubs, doesn't she?!?)

    I don't remember the EXACT moment (after 4 tours of potty-training duty, I'm pretty much thankful for even a small fraction of brain activity) but, I'm pretty sure it was AFTER cutting underneath her holly tree.

    3 things came to mind:

    1.  Poison ivy lives here.

    2.  Miss Grace is NOT allergic to poison ivy.

    3.  I am SEVERELY allergic to poison ivy.

    No worries.  I've done this before (sadly) and know EXACTLY what to do:

    1.  Take a shower, IMMEDIATELY!

    2.  Dry off, COMPLETELY!

    3.  Wash infected clothes and any towels used, SEPARATELY!

    Besides, Karma dictates I should be fine (no?)

    Poison Ivy Week 2 HAH!  Made you itch!!!

    So, here I am, 2 weeks later, fresh from the doctor's office, thinking I was suffering from some sort of horrible contagion, with a prescription of prednisone (it makes my brain itch, like crazy) just so you know:

    3. (REVISED) Wash infected clothes and any towels used SEPARATELY and IN HOT WATER!

    Next week:  I'm ripping out her holly tree and planting a dogwood (shhhh, but don't tell her, okay?) after I borrow a HAZMAT suit, of course.

    STUPID poison ivy, DUMBASS Karma!

    © 2003 – 2011 This Full House

  • I Felt the Earth Move Under My Buttocks

    As you may (or, may not) have heard (or, even care, considering other more important stuff, like, oh, I don't know, preparing for a hurricane, or something) we had a bit of excitement the other day when the earth "Pfffftttt" here in Jersey.

    All east coast jokes aside (seriously, I'm from Jersey, we're used to it) what I can tell you is this, I was already sitting on the floor and did NOT panic (at first) thinking:

    a) I was helping the girls clean out their closet and, well, it's a lot like playing Jenga, only different.

    b) The washing machine was running at the time and I may (or, may not) have overloaded the sucker (again!)

    c) A truck busted open that stupid sink hole down the street, or the watermain broke (or, both!)

    d) Our house is old, it farts (a lot!)

    Until, I saw my oldest girl's eyes go wide (LIKE THIS!) and watched one of their cubbies shimmy, back and forth, like J-Lo (in slow motion) did I feel the floor ripple under me.

    PANIC!!!!!

    All west coast sensibilities, aside (seriously, I get it!) the rest of the kids and I met in the living room and it wasn't because we thought it was an earthquake, at first.

    "Is the house falling down?"

    It is at this very moment, when I realized, that ALL those years of my joking about the house…falling down around our ears…pretty much bit me right in the buttocks.

    Literally AND figuratively speaking, dagnabit.

    P.S.  Many thanks to all my west coast friends on Facebook and Twitter for their patience in helping me explain to my kids how the earth typically doesn't, "Pfffftttt," like that, here in Jersey.

    P.P.S.  My 10 year-old finally DID manage to put her feet down on the floor, rather than walk her way around the house, on top of the furniture.

    P.P.P.S.  Yo, Irene…BITE ME!!!

    © 2003 – 2011 This Full House

    Freshly-brewed elsewhere:  Allstate Good Hands Roadside Assistance Program Recap where I get to share a $50 Amazon gift card.  Also, had fun filming this video with the Minute Clinic folks at BlogHer.

  • Fanny Body Asks, I’m NOT Home!

    TFH Fortress of DorkitudeKnock-knock.  Who's there?  Fanny.  Fanny who? (see blog post title) SNORT!

    The kids helped me out with a little blogging project and, since it's been raining cats and dogs, since, like, forever, they built this awesome tent in the  middle of our livingroom.

    Not that it's earth-shattering news, or an epiphany in parenting, that will perhaps, one day, save the world, by any means, or anything.

    It's just that, you know, my kids are older AND by older I mean:  a) oldest is graduating high school this year and b) youngest is moving up to middle school next year (SOB!)

    The fact that they still like doing this sort of stuff…with me…well, sort of just blows me away, a little.

    You see, I am not the best mom, or expert at anything other than being a dork (I get that!) but, raising teens is REAL hard.

    Aaaaand, some would be hardpressed to argue that first part, as well (DAMNIT!) but, these are my kids and, some day, REAL soon, maybe they won't be home long enough, or even want to admit that, you know, we actually had fun…together.

    Except, this one day, when we built a tent, out of blankets, in the middle of our living room, microwaved us some S'mores and watched Toy Story 3.

    Aaaaand, it was AWESOME!

    Racy Mushrooms

    "Holy crap on a stick, look at the size of those mushrooms!"

    Told you it's been raining, A LOT!!!

    "Heeeeey, you know what, they sorta look [snicker] you know [cough, cough] kinda, I dunno, funny-looking, right?!?"

    After some scolding and a quick lecture on the appropriateness of this particular conversation, my kids finally allowed me back into the house and sent me and my inner-12-year-old straight to my room, for some quiet time.

    Aaaaand, it was AWESOME!

    © 2003 – 2011 This Full House

    Freshly-brewed elsewhere:  Allstate Good Hands Roadside Assistance Program Recap where I get to share a $50 Amazon gift card.  Also, had fun filming this video with the Minute Clinic folks at BlogHer.