Category: Raising Teens, Tweens & Killer Dust Bunnies

  • A Thanksgiving Prank Gone Bad

    A Boy and His Dog, Asleep

    It was the night before Thanksgiving, and all through the house, not a creature was sleeping, except for the boy and his, well, that's our Doofus Dawg and he is WAY bigger than a mouse.

    Shhh, brother is sleeping!

    Then, someone suggests, quite innocently,"Wouldn't it be funny, if we painted his toe nails?"

    Now, most people would probably think, "Yes, but it wouldn't be very nice." 

    Paint HIS tonails, of course!

    "Why yes, yes, it would, I'll get the nail polish!"

    Then again, we are NOT most people, he IS the only boy in the house and, well, the kid pretty much pranks us…ALL THE TIME…so, it's all in the name of good, clean, fun, right?

    "You're gonna make him cry."

    Apparently, my 13 yo did NOT think it was such a great idea, but went along with it, anyway.

    "That's just not right."

    Neither did my husband, Garth [not his real name] who woke up with his fingernails painted, once, but that time I…I mean…we painted them black and he DID notice before leaving the house for work.

    "Shhhh, you're gonna wake him up."

    My son, however, slept through it all and it wasn't until sometime, in the middle of breakfast, the next day, that he even noticed!

    "GAAAAAH, who painted my toenails?!?"

    Aaaand, there was much giggling.

    [eyes go wide]

    Until, it dawned on him that, you know, someone painted HIS toenails.

    "I told you he would cry."

    Yeah, maybe we should have listened to Heather (obviously, she HAS more sense than her mother) but, my SIL was a little surprised at how upset he got (having slept over, on the night in question) and, well, she, or I would have let him in on the prank, before anyone else arrived for Thanksgiving dinner.

    "I am SO embarrassed!"

    Then again, maybe I've grown a little too used to dealing with girls, who cry, just because they can and aren't boys supposed to be all, you know, snakes and snails and puppy dog tails?

    "I'm SO sorry, Bud; I really thought you'd think it was funny!"

    Apparently, I was wrong…AGAIN!

    "Well, IT'S NOT!"

    I stood there, watching him, as he tried to wipe the nail polish off with a wet piece of toilet paper, and I wanted to crawl under a rock, and die, probably just as much as he wanted me to, if not more, I'm sure.

    "Here, let me do that for you."

    I grabbed the nail polish remover and started to, you know, try and clean up yet ANOTHER BIG MESS I'd gotten us into and, well, we each took turns and thanked my son for accepting our apologies, as half-assed as it sounds, at the moment.

    "We didn't mean to make you cry!"

    Lesson Learned:  Girls are spice and everything nice, until their brother's asleep and there happens to be a bottle of nail polish, near by.

    "Besides, you can always stick one of their fingers in a glass of warm water and make them pee their beds!"

    Less than smart mothers, like me, however, deserve nothing more than strained carrots and peas, or made to watch the Doodle Bops, until our eyes explode AND our ears begin to bleed.

    "No, that would  be mean."

    Although, he DID giggle…a little…me, too.

    Liz@thisfullhouse signature

    © 2009 This Full House - All Rights Reserved.

  • Ghosts of Thanksgiving Past

    Bud and Pam 1st Thanksgiving

    Bud and Pam's 1st Thanksgiving 2008

    Over the years, I've grown accustomed to having family over for the holidays and, as the kids get older, I find myself worrying less about the table setting (nope, it doesn't match) or, the food preparation (yes, some of it comes out of a can) not to mention, I don't bother too much about making lists, anymore (seriously?) or, worry whether I've managed to hunt down each and every dust bunny (they're sort of like pets, really and I've even named a few) or not.

    Because, no matter how my husband, Garth [not his real name] and I try, we've come to accept the simple fact that, with a family as big as ours (direct and extended) somethings just don't go right and, before you can say, "Pass the potatoes," someone's puking all over your nice, clean and shiny floors.

    Last year?

    I pretty much insisted that I would not mind it, in the least, if my brother and his wife, you know, did Thanksgiving.

    Because, in our house, it isn't the holidays unless someone in the family is sick or is scheduled for a surgical procedure, like tomorrow.

    This year?

    Although, my middle girl, Heather (she's 13) is STILL dealing with the same danged creeping crud (WAY better than I have, I might add) it seems to have gone into hibernation.

    [knocking on wood until knuckles bleed]

    So, the rest of my kids are getting used to learning how to share, rather than compete, for our attention (unfortunately, these days, everything is viral) and my parents, well, they're getting older, too.

    Each year, we get to spend together, however difficult, unplanned, or imperfect, IS a gift.

    All things considered, along with a few things I haven't bothered to mention (you're welcome) I am very thankful that this passed year wasn't, you know, any worse.

    This week?

    My brother got some really bad news (cancer can #suckit) and then, with the help of some of our closest Internet friends (yeah, I'm surprised that he friended me on Facebook, too) my brother gave cancer a BIG old-fashioned Jersey bitch-slap, it deserves.

    HOOAH!

    Although, we probably won't be able to see him and my SIL on Thursday (stupid cancer) I am thankful to know that they are, at least, you know, within spitting distance.

    [hocks-a-loogie]

    Today?

    I'm pretty much ready to take back Thanksgiving and
    make that bitch mine.

    "Strep test came back negative, but there's a lot of puss on his tonsils and, well, it could be mono."

    Glen is home with…um…something…so, we're waiting and hoping his fever breaks, before Thursday and well, just remember to call first, okay?

    "Mom, it's up to 103!!!"

    Um…OH!…look over there!

    [sniff-sniff]

    "Are we still having Thanksgiving?"

    Did you happen to notice my nice shiny clean floors?

    "Oh yes, there WILL be turkey, dammit!!!"

    [hocks-a-loogie]

    Have a Happy Thanksgiving — or a reasonable facsimile, thereof.

    Liz@thisfullhouse signature

    © 2009 This Full House - All Rights Reserved.

  • Mothers Working Against Guilt Need Not Apply

    Liz@thisfullhouse Working Out

    Behind every successful woman, is a basket of dirty laundry…Sally Forth

    Except, in my case, it IS a "pile" of "clean" laundry and, well, success is a relative term, isn't it?

    According to some members of my family (especially, those who are, you know, mostly, women) I should consider myself lucky, whenever my husband, Garth [not his real name] is brave enough to come home and "actually" gets out of the car, at night.

    I get that.

    Still.  Why are we women (mothers or non) so gosh-darned hard on each other?

    (more…)

  • Mom Sends the Msg: Never Drive Faster Than Your Mom (or Dad) Can Text

    MomsMsg.comIf you were to ask me to list the scariest words in the English language, a few years ago, it would have looked something like this:

    • Strep throat
    • It's probably viral
    • Check E. Cheese
    • Parent-teacher conference
    • I couldn't find any clean underwear (don't ask)

    Then, I picked up my oldest daughter (she turned 16, last week) and she laid 6 more on me, right in the middle of the high school parking lot:

    "I started driver's ed, today!"

    I knew this day would come.  Dreaded it more than anything (even hot flashes) actually.

    [the sound of brakes, screeching to a halt] 

    Then, she showed me the Parent Resource for Teen Driving Safety manual she received and I was all, like:

    "You wanna drive home?"

    (more…)

  • Veteran’s Day Project: Children Give Thanks

    Veteran's Day Project

    Her 3rd grade class was asked to create posters, giving thanks to a soldier, for the Veteran's Day Parade, today — she chose her Uncle John.

    Veteran's Day Poster

    Each of her classmates has a poster, just like it.

    A special thanks to ALL of our troops and big HOOAH to my twin brother, SFC Kat, who has dedicated each and every one of his medals to our parents — they risked their lives for the promise of freedom and love America more than anyone I know!

    Liz@thisfullhouse signature

    © 2009 This Full House - All Rights Reserved.

  • Classic This Full House: I don’t think early Native Americans even ate salty corn chips or spoke like Scooby Doo, did they!?!

    Indianminime

    In kindergarten, I used to call her Mini-me!

    I'm starting my new job, today (YIKES!) and, well, Garth [not his real name] took the day off and, since the kids had him last Thursday and Friday, too (love when he surprises us, like that) today, I get to keep him all to myself!!!

    Until, I have to go to work…wait, it's been 16 years…let me just say that again:

    I HAVE TO GO TO WORK (like, leave the house and get paid real money) I mean!

    So, I've been cleaning out my archives (since, it's easier than switching out the drawers and closets, really) and invite you to share in a Classic This Full House (from when Hope was in kindergarten) and, well, it's sort of comforting to know that not much has changed.

    Except, I use my youngest daughter's real name (she asked me to) instead of her blog name (Mini-me) and she's in the…[cough]…3rd grade…[choke]…now!

    Okay, and maybe…juuuuuust, maybe…I spell-checked-it a few times, first.

    YOU'RE WELCOME!!!

    (more…)

  • Into the Woods

    Autumn in Pittsgrove

    Over the river and thru the woods, 

    Oh, how the wind does blow!


    It stings the toes and bites the nose,

    As over crispy ground we go.

    Sometimes, you just have to grab an extra blanket, maybe even a fishing pole, or two, hop into the car, drive to where the sun sets deep into quiet shades of autumn and leave the rest of the world behind.

    Yes, yesterday was one of those days.

    Liz@thisfullhouse signature

    © 2009 This Full House - All Rights Reserved

  • All I Want for Christmas

     

    In case you're wondering whatever happened to Monday Mornings the Doofus-Dawg

    He's lost in a pile of laundry. 

    Aaaaanway, I was supposed to start my "real job" today (YAY!) but. they offered to give me an increase to 4 hours, 3 times per week and I took it (more milk money, double-YAY!) but, I don't start until next week (BOO!) and I've got somethin' else to show you.

    [grin]

    So, feel free to grab a cup of cawfee, or whatever, I'll wait!

    Liz@thisfullhouse signature

    © 2009 This Full House - All Rights Reserved.

  • Not So SAHM, Anymore

    PeaceLoveMom

    Mom, but what BIG ARMS you have — why, yes, the better to hug you with, my dear!

    For years (or, as long as this blog has existed…anyways) I have considered the phrase, "Stay-at-Home-Mom" an oxymoron, like:

    • The Great Depression – to which, my in-laws insist that it was, in fact, you know, not so great.
    • Dry lake – although, I don't seem to have an immediate problem with dry wine.
    • Original copy – as opposed to, a copied original, I think.
    • Clearly misunderstood – is one of my husband's favorite phrases, actually (he's married to me, I know, SHUDUP!)

    Makes no sense, right?  Sort of like a house wife.  What is she, once she leaves the house; does she become a part-time wife; if she drives a car, is she cheating on the house; does anyone else spend way too much time thinking about stupid stuff, like this?

    Or, the bigger question (in my mind) does it really matter?

    "What do you mean, you got a job?"

    Apparently, to some of my children, it really does.

    "Who's gonna stay at home, with us?"

    Yes, I got a job…well, if you consider working 2 1/2 hours, 3 times a week, a job, I mean…but, it DOES mean actually leaving the house and, you know, getting paid!

    "I will, silly." 

    Once again, I was clearly misunderstood.

    "Phew, I thought you said you got a job?"

    See what I mean?

    "Yes, I start next week!"

    I swear, you could hear all 4 of their gorgeous little minds, slam on their imaginary brakes and, truth be told, I was feeling a little guilty about finding amusement in their mass confusion.

    "GAH…but, you said…d'oh, I don't get!"

    I mean, it should be easy enough to explain:

    • Yes, mommy got a job.
    • No, not like daddy's. 
    • Yes, I will be getting paid. 
    • No, I will not have any vacation, or sick days.
    • Yes, I have to get dressed and leave the house.
    • No, I will not be home for soccer practice, or girl scouts.
    • Yes, I will be home for dinner, or when you're home sick, from school.
    • No, you can't come with me.
    • Yes, it's a real job.

    Then, there's the whole SAHM thing:

    • Yes, I will be home, during the day, mostly.
    • No, I can't go to work in my pajamas.
    • Yes, I will be getting paid, on time and FOR REAL!
    • No, it STILL won't get us to Disney…yet.
    • Yes, I still get to keep my day job, mostly.
    • No, I don't know how I will find the time, either.
    • Yes, I am very excited.
    • No, I don't feel guilty.
    • Yes, I feel guilt.

    Clearly, I'm unclear about my feelings. 

    Perhaps it's time for a new acronym — besides SAHMMA, you know, the one I created, yesterday, I mean — something that describes, rather than defines, a mother's right to decide what works best for her, and/or her family.

    Either way, IMHO — in my humble opinion — no, it really doesn't matter.

    The job?

    I don't know how to describe it, other than, it involves hanging out with a bunch of sweaty women and trying, real hard, not to break any really expensive exercise equipment.

    "No, seriously, mom, you, a fitness instructor?"

    Sort of.

    [pause for laughter]

    I start next week!

    Liz@thisfullhouse signature

    © 2009 This Full House - All Rights Reserved.