This Full House Archive

Category: Raising Teens, Tweens & Killer Dust Bunnies

The Husband Wish List
I was collating through paperwork and alphabetizing color-coded files, the other day.

Okay, so I was looking for a pen.

Fiiiiiine, I would have been happy finding a broken crayon…but, couldn't see the top of my desk from the paper jungle that mysteriously cropped up…seems like overnight, really.

Alriiiiiight, so a person could lose a small child in the stack of bills, that somehow magically migrated from the kitchen table…ummmmmm…what?

[sound of crickets]

PEN!!!…that's right…I was looking for a pen (or crayon) but, found a list of stuff and asked my youngest daughter about it, since, you know, it was in her handwriting.

"It's a list of stuff."

Now that we're clear on it being a list…of stuff…she went on to explain that it is actually a collective wish list she and her sisters penned, while I was away at BlogHer, of the qualities they wanted in their future husband and/or SigOth.

In the order listed (with notes added, where deemed necessary, or, at least, I felt, you know, compelled to do so, as their Muh-thuh) and YES! I asked them before I blogged it, for the sake of posterity, of course:
- Funny (Heh, guys hate this, right?!?)
- Loving
- Caring
- Good attitude
- Wants to have kids (Really? Hrmph. Go figure.)
- Tall
- A Little Older (My oldest has a little crush on the "Stay Thirsty, My Friends," dude, me too!)
- Australian (With the likes of Hugh Jackman, can you blame them?)
- Any accent (Come to think of it…Mike Holmes…aye?!?)
- Great personality
- Hugger (It's how we roll!)
- Dancer/singer/male model/body building (I kid you not, with forward slash and everything!)
- Lots of money (I guess they thought better about it!)
- Helps read to children (Preferably can read on their own, too, I hope!)
- Nice abs (SNORT!)
- Love to bake and cook
- Pretty eyes (It's what attracted me to their father, that and his nice abs, really!)
- Toned (Because, sometimes nice abs are just not enough, you know?)
- Good teeth (Or, at least, hope that one of your sisters or brother marries a dentist!)
- Animal lover
- Smooth voice (Why, yes, I do happen to own a collection of Barry White albums, why do you ask?)
- Artistic
- Sporty
- Bond with the kids
- Strong
[pause for bathroom break]
- Willing to take responsibility and take care of family when sick
- Photographer
- Traveler (Aaaaand, hopefully, take you with him, just sayin')
- Some chest hair (SNORT!)
- Whiskers (Less cat-like and more of the Johnny Depp-ish, I think!)
- Confident
- Flirty (Smart girls!)
- Loves me for me (Word!)
- Doesn't smoke or do drugs (See previous parenthesis.)
- Loves the beach/the ocean/the capes (i.e. Cape Cod and Cape May.)
- Construction worker (To build his/her mother-in-law her dream house, FINALLY, preferably on either one of the Capes, doesn't matter which, really, I'm easy like that!)
It will be fun to visit this list, a few years from now and see how we they fared (or, not!) right?!?

Riiiiiiight.

© 2003 – 2011 This Full House
August 15, 2011
Traveling With Teens and Tweens and That Annoying 20-Something Couple!

Traveling with younger kids is hard, trust me, I know. My minivan has battle scars — not to mention, unidentifiable stains, which will stay that way, because, seriously, I don't even want to know and I'm STILL finding petrified food c. 2006 — to prove it!

Driving, now that my kids are ALL in double-digits, however, and being stuck in traffic, for half the trip (seriously, Connecticut?) can make even the most level-headed, easy-going, and emotionally-balanced parent go all mental.

"Would you PLEASE stop talking and put some noodles into your mouth, or something!"

Then again, I don't remember ever having THIS much fun with them, at the beach, when they were little and, quite frankly, I was probably more concerned about counting heads than making with the crane.

Me and Sue of As Cape Cod Turns

Or, being able to make last minute dinner plans with bloggers, who I now have the extreme priviledge of being able to call out as good friends who, after asking:

"Are ALL your kids with you?"

Then learn:

"Yes, ALL my kids are here, with us, right here, staying in this one room…[clears throat]…I'll bring the wine!"

And STILL, you know, seem to want us to bring our kids.

Oh and shopping. While, my husband, Garth (not his real name) and the manchild patiently wait as the rest of us go shopping.

Also, eating in restaurants. Although, 5 out of 6 of us aren't allowed to order off the kids menu, anymore and, well, we don't go out all that often. But, when we do, it's a treat.

"DAMN…that's a lot of kids!"

Yeah, uh-uh, as if I've never heard THAT before. Still. We stopped at a sushi place halfway home and there was an obnoxious 20-something couple sitting behind us and by obnoxious, I mean that even my 10 year-old was all like…EWWW…he's eating her ear!

"Hahahahaha, riiiiiiight, and they're taking them ALL home, with 'em!"

I kid you not. The kids and Garth (not his real name) were already out the door and I was all, like, huh?!? Aaaaaand, the fact that he used her as his own private little (okay, not so little) sushi table, way better, right?!?

"Why didn't you say something, mom?"

Honestly, I was too busy, trying to figure out what their story was and, well, would it have really mattered, anyway, if I had?!?

"Because, all of his brains are obviously in her breasts and they wouldn't have understood me, anyway."

SNORT!!!

"Yeah, also, if the Apocalypse happens, we could use those puppies as flotation devices!"

Aaaaand, oh, how we laughed and laughed.

Gosh, but I love traveling with older kids and someone should really consider banning obnoxious 20-something-year-olds at restaurants.

Or, at least, prohibit them from procreating! I kid. Sort of.

Also, it's sort of nice to have another licensed driver in the house, who can take over and give daddy and/or mommy a much needed break, if need be.

When and if ever she wakes up, of course!

© 2003 – 2011 This Full House

August 1, 2011
Our Forever Beach

I was born in a bay town, caressed each of my children, for the first time, in a room overlooking the banks of a river and raised them in a shore town, within viewing distance of the Hudson River.

Where the ocean touches the earth, plays hide-and-go-seek with the light and the sunshine is treasured above all else.

Not to mention, the slightly tangy sting of the fresh salty air. It's in their blood.

Their father has been coming to this same beach since he was a child. It's where we spent our first days as man and wife and introduced each of our babies to the soft, gentle waves of Cape Cod Bay.

Songs have been written for less and, sadly, moments like these are becoming far and few in between.

But, NOT this day. The shades of soft purples, dark blues and warm golds are still very fresh in our minds.

For, no matter where life takes us, (because, tomorrow comes a lot faster than you think) we will always have THIS day, as far and few in between as it IS, on OUR beach, together, for which I will be FOREVER thankful.

As I live and breath, I love you, Garth (not his real name) thank for THIS and much, much more!

© 2003 – 2011 This Full House

July 29, 2011
Roadside Assistance For Teens

I usually don't write about this sort of stuff, here (because, zombies are so much more in line with my parenting philosophy, you know?)

Aaaaaaanyway, I recently had the opportunity to share information about a great new service on my shopping blog.

It's been 6 weeks since Holly got her driver's license and — although, I have to admit, I'm getting REAL used to her running last-minute-type errands — I'm worrying MORE about my baby girl than ever before!

So, when the Allstate folks approached me about their pay ONLY when you need it roadside assistance program, I thought it was a GREAT plan — most especially, if you have new drivers in the house, like we do!

Because, upon reading my blog post, Heather (she's my middle girl and is my self-imposed grammar corrector) was kind enough to remind me that she is turning 16 at the end of this year and will be eligible for her driver's license, next year!

GULP!!!

Sooooooo, YES, I believe it is very important to introduce teens to the basic fundamentals of taking care of a car, as well as an emergency back-up plan, seeing as they will be sharing the same car…mine!!!

I really hope you check it out and thank you for your time.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to pick up a couple of job applications, because, New Jersey car insurance rates…DAYUM…or, maybe I'll just get Holly to do it, right?!?

© 2003 – 2011 This Full House

July 27, 2011
Wordless Wednesday: No wonder they don’t chase him off the couch!

P.S.: He saw me coming and shoved his head under the pillow in a "you don't see me sort of way," too.

Freshly-Brewed Elsewhere:
Smoothing Our Way into Chillaxing Summertime Snacks
Including Craft Fairs and Art Shows Into Your Summertime Routine

© 2003 – 2011 This Full House

July 20, 2011
Not My Daughters, Most Likely, My Son

Over the years, I've learned to expect less than favorable opinions, from other people, upon learning that I have 4 kids.

Then, when other people find out I have 3 daughters, who ALL share the same bedroom, the shock sets in and, well, yes, it is just as complicated and delicate of a situation as anyone can imagine.

All I can say is, thank goodness we have a REALLY BIG backyard and, when hormone levels begin to rise and, add in the closeness of summertime, threaten to reach epic proportions (like, yesterday) I can toss them ALL in the swimming pool and, hopefully, avert a nuclear meltdown.

Mine, too!

Being a girl is really, really hard. I know. My daughters sometimes forget, I used to be one. Once. A long time ago.

However, I wasn't allowed to play organized sports, even though I was really good at soccer and could pretty much run circles around the boys, when playing "for fun" at the Hungarian Club.

With my sincerest apologies, in advance, to Mia Hamm's mother, it was a boy's sport and both my parents worked during the day AND cleaned office buildings, together, in the evenings, during most sporting practices, anyway.

It wasn't in their nature to, you know, ask for help.

Besides, they had me to help cook, clean and were grooming their daughter to be perhaps the best that they could have expected, at the time, given their upbringing.

Frankly, there are worse things (trust me, I've heard their stories) and my parents have since admitted, as their daughter, I've far surpassed any and all of their expectations (mine, too!)

They ARE terrific grandparents and have been there, for my kids, sharing in nearly every milestone and a few unexpected surprises, as well.

Funny backstory: after a long day of furniture shopping and helping my parents plan their move, we stopped for lunch and my father actually cheered, out loud, when my oldest got her period at McDonalds.

While, 30 years earlier, I got in trouble, BIG TIME, for leaving a pack of Kotex on the bathroom sink.

Still, I try and make it a point to thank them, whenever I can, for helping to make me the person, who I am…right now.

I am…the mother of 3 very spirited daughters, who are confident and, although they don't like each other, very much, sometimes (okay, a lot) there's unconditional love, in there, somewhere, albeit wet and perhaps even a little sticky.

Oh, and I also have a son, who likes to cook, bake and knows how to separate his laundry (okay, so my mother taught him) and…YES…I expect him to make someone a REAL good wife, most likely, some day.

Just, not my daughters.

© 2003 – 2011 This Full House

July 1, 2011
Perfection is So Over-Weeded

My friend Diana wrote a wonderful blog post on the acceptance of messes (feeling pride in tending to her less than perfect garden) and, well, for me, hers is such a timely story.

My parents always kept a vegetable garden. Growing up in an urban area, surrounded by ironworks, factories, several blocks of shared housing, warranting little more than a quick glance, before the traffic light changes, we were one of the few families to do so, in our neighborhood, anyway.

Still, their vegetables were always so beautiful and, my kids spent hours playing in their green house, when they were little.

Small as it was, our backyard became an oasis and, from the moment you walked through the rose arbor, you'd forget your troubles, become deaf to all the noise outside the garden gate and, well, it was REAL nice to feel privy to that sort of peace, even for just a little while.

Then, my husband Garth (not his real name) and I began looking for a house and, as small (and full) as it is, right now, I am very, very thankful for our REAL big backyard, too.

My parents surprised us, that first year, by planting a vegetable garden, while we were away (I forget where, or why) and, well, life was good.

18 years, 4 kids, 3 cats, 1 Doofus-Dawg and a myriad of OTHER things that I just don't even want to, you know, think about, right now (maybe later) and the garden, well, this is the first summer I have considered “not dealing with it,” either and, you know what?

I did, anyway. Because, as small and overcrowded with weeds as my vegetable garden is, right now, I could not imagine a summer without being able to go outside and, you know, dig in the dirt.

Aaaaand, in the process, perhaps even weed out my mommy brain, just a little, you know?

Thanks SO MUCH for the reminder, Diana.

© 2003 – 2011 This Full House

June 24, 2011
The Neglected Side of My Kids’ Family Tree

When my son was in the 4th grade, I asked my parents if they'd be interested in speaking to his class about what it was like to have immigrated to America.

This year, they were excited to be invited back to Heritage Day by Hope's 4th grade teacher, who heard them speak a few years ago and was hoping they'd share their experiences with her class, as well.

This time, I was a little concerned about their being able to go through with it.

To be honest, physically, mentally, emotionally, my parents are in a very different place (who isn't, right?) they have their good days and bad days — not to mention, down right sucktastic times when they can no longer hide the pain from their faces — so, I didn't make any promises and just hoped for a good day.

It was a REAL good day.

In fact, I'm seriously considering taking on a managing role and hitting the public speaking circuit with these two: they are SUCH good tawww-kuhs (or, tock-kerrrrzzzzz, if you're from Hungary!)

My inlaws, not so much.

My mother-in-law suffers from trigeminal neuralogia, has for years, to the point where the simple act of eating, drinking, talking and even smiling, causes her debilitating pain.

Married to their son, for nearly 21 years, I feel it safe to say that it probably hurts my father-in-law, even more. Dad grew up outside of Boston (or, if you're from Boston, then Bah-ston) so, I really do appreciate his strong New England sensibilities and his wicked sense of humor (dry as it is) especially, on a good day, when my mother-in-law is, you know, not hurting.

I don't blog about my in-laws, much. The fact that either one of them might be reading this, right now, is probably making my father-in-law, you know, itch and I'm really sorry about that.

Because, we ALL have learned to enjoy each others company (yes, on purpose!) and, although we may not always agree, let alone, get a word in edgewise (sorry, Grandpa!) my inlaws are an important part of our family's story, as well.

IN OTHER WORDS: Yesterday was a REAL good day, too.

Consider yourselves blogged, Mom and Dad (you're welcome!!!)

© 2003 – 2011 This Full House

June 20, 2011
3,650 Days

As a mom of a 17, 15 and 12 year-old, other than scraping teeth on utensils, or chewing and speaking at the same time (shiver!) things don't bother me as much, as they did, when ALL 4 of my kids were in single digits…at the same time (double-shiver!)

But, this kid…right here…just turned 10 today and, well, I'm still having trouble wrapping my head around the fact that my oldest is now a legally licensed driver.

Or, that my middle girl is turning 16 at the end of this year and how much older than 15 that sounds, right about now.

Cape May 2011

Never mind, that my son's next birthday will mark the "Holy Hannah Montana what do you mean we have 3 teenagers in the house," point in our lives where my husband, Garth (not his real name) and I won't be able to use each of my pregnancies as a time line, to remember stuff, for very much longer.

Cape May 2007

Like, how this post is supposed to be about Hope's 10th Birthday and here I am, going on about her siblings and, well, that's how it goes, when you are the youngest, right?

But, this kid…right here…makes us laugh AND cry (especially, whenever she feels the need to interject herself in a conversation and correct one of us, which is often) like no one else we know (she's usually right, btw!)

Although, sometimes Hope will swear that she is ALWAYS last and that no one EVER listens to her, she has single-handedly managed to claim an especially squishy spot in each of our hearts.

Because, Hope IS a mashup of ALL that is good in our lives at the moment and, now that she's crossed-over to double digits, too (SOB!) I can't think of a better reason to celebrate, than this:

From Day 1 to Day 3,650 (or, 3,652.42199, including, leap year) there is and always will be ONLY one Hope — a.k.a. Queen of the Cat Daddy.

Happy 10th Birthday, Hopey!

P.S. After careful consideration, I've decided to surprise Hope and take her to get her nails done after school, today. I understand, she's only 10 (see above) but, it's the ONLY thing on this kid's birthday list and, considering I'm her mother, it's really not a whole heck of a lot to ask, is it?

P.P.S. Besides, she's MY kid…soooooooo…pppfffbbbllltttt!!!

© 2003 – 2011 This Full House

June 16, 2011
Maybe This Time, She’ll Stay…Parked.

Last week, I got to spend a few days at one of my favorite summertime destinations and, would you believe, it is NOT Disney?

My family has never been, actually.

Nope, in fact, I was happy for the opportunity to write about my favorite vacation spot, here in Jersey (is, too!!!)

Still, leaving home, without my kids, is always hard.

However, I did not expect my youngest daughter to cry and hug me, as hard, as she did, or to make my son feel as if I were never coming back home, ever again.

Then, about halfway into the 2+ hour car ride it dawned me.

"Hi mom, we need the password for Netflix."

My kids were sad, beeeeeecause, they weren't allowed to, you know, come with me and, well, the fact that they probably would be fine, without me (for the next few days, at least) just made my time away from home a little easier.

Then, I came home, gave them each their presents (don't judge) and we ALL settled in to catch up on Season 2 of Glee (thank you, Netflix) when it hit.

"Mom, we need to practice parallel parking!!!"

A wave of nausea, when realizing that my oldest daughter is taking her driving test on Tuesday and…for those of you who have been reading along…for the last 8 years (you know who you are!) and my many new friends I've met over the internets…I hope you understand when I repeat this, all in UPPERCASE:

HOLLY WILL (or will not) BE ISSUED A NEW JERSEY DRIVER'S LICENSE, TOMORROW!!!

Oh and, one more thing:

HOW IN THE H…E…DOUBLE HOCKEY STICKS DID THAT HAPPEN, ANYWAY?!?!?

[takes deep breath]

So, Garth (not his real name) and I traded cars, since she'll be road-testing in it, anyway.

Also, the hand break is in the center console, where instructor can reach it, if need be, but I hope not, still, you never know, it is supposed to rain, like buckets, okay, pour actually, ugh, moving on.

Late this afternoon, Holly and I headed over to the high school and, seeing as I grew up about 25 minutes outside of New York City, while my husband grew up with head on parking (ONLY!) I instructed my 17 year-old in the fine art of parallel parking.

Phase 1: wasn't very successful and I suspected it was because the poor kid couldn't see the back of the first pretend car.

"This is no use, Mom, I can't see the garbage can in the front!"

See, I told you, because, I'm smart like that.

Phase 2: I found the pair of slippers, from Christmas, that don't fit Garth (not his real name) in the trunk, so I balanced it right on top of an empty box of garbage bags and, viola!!!

Almost, not quite, but I just stood there, taking pictures, all quiet like (which is very, very hard for a Hungarian, just so you know) and let Holly get a feel for her.

Well, seems like she's ready and close enough to the curb for Mr. or Ms. DMV Instructor, even, right?

"I'm gonna pass this suh-cuh!"

Yep, to me, it sounds like she's more than ready to drive, in Jersey!

"Even if you don't, no biggie!"

Seriously, we live in Jersey, either way, she parks like her muh-thuh.

"Can I blog this?"

So, you know, I could remember what in the h…e…double hockey sticks I did…for the next 3 times, I mean.

"Can you believe that Hope's turning double-digits this week, too, Mom?"

Because, you know, they don't stay little for long…DAGNABIT!!!!

UPDATED TO ADD: She passed. I did NOT puke. Aaaaand, now it starts…

© 2003 – 2011 This Full House

June 13, 2011