This Full House Archive

Category: Raising Teens, Tweens & Killer Dust Bunnies

  • It’s Not the Years, HONEY – It’s the Mileage!

    Driving This Full House

    Yeah, well, YOU shut up and drive!

    I have ALWAYS thought the acronym SAHM (stay-at-home-mom) to be an oxymoron.  Yes, I have kids.  Yes, I am home (right now) and yes, my kids are also in school (full-time) but, I will be leaving my house (in about 30 minutes) to bring kids back home and NOT all of them happen to be mine, either.

    I am in charge of "the after school" portion of the carpool.

    [waves to Carpooling Mom, she reads my blog]

    You see, Carpooling Mom does "the morning run," and I, well, get an extra 25 minutes to kiss my husband (he wishes!) or, pour another cup of coffee (or, 20) before heading out into suburban hell (a.k.a. my youngest daughter's elementary school!)

    Unless it's raining. 

    "UGH!"

    Or, one of my two oldest daughters are running late.

    "Who turned off the alarm, again?"

    Mostly, my 16 year-old.

    "Yes, I'll drive you to school."

    This morning, it was raining, my 16 year-old was running late (AGAIN!) AND, since my husband's car died, last week (the funeral is this weekend) my SIL was gracious enough to lend Garth [not his real name] hers (thanks sis!) but, it died this morning (sorry sis!) and, well, I've created a new acronym, just for the occasion!

    "Yes, I'll drive you to work."

    S.A.H.M.M.A. (stay-at-home-mom-my-ass) if anyone needs me, I'll be on the road, driving and flipping someone off, no doubt!

    "Speed up, SPEED up, SPEED UP OR YOU'LL NEVER GET PASSED THAT TRUCK!!!"

    Mostly, my husband……to be continued.

    Liz@thisfullhouse signature

    © 2009 This Full House - All Rights Reserved.

  • Monday Morning With Doofus-Dawg: Mama Always DID Like Me Best!

    Mama and Doofus

    D'oh, Ah loves it when Mama does that…

    Mah moms is not heres, right now and…d'oh…excuse me a minute, puh-leeze.

    BARK-BARK-WOOF-BARKITY-WOOF-WOOF!

    D'oh, sorry 'bout that.  Ah hates squirrels.  Don't yous?  Anyways.
     Mah moms is not heres, I think and…um…d'oh yeah…ah remembers now.

    [heavy sigh]

    Ah loves that pit-cher of me…you know…d'oh, Doofus-Dawg and Mama.

    [blank stare]

    D'oh,
    yeah, ah remembers, now…hers is mah mom's…you know…dad and …d'oh…that's naught right, either…'cause, everybodies knows dads are lots hairy and gots long ears, like me.

    SNORT!

    D'oh…aaaaaanyways…so, mah moms wuz out visitin' with her moms and dads on Sundays…uh…ah
    think it was yesterdays…d'oh…aaaaaanyhow…hers done took the girls someplace and ah spendid the day…all alones…with mah dads and the boy!

    BARK-BARK-WOOF-BARKITY-WOOF-WOOF

    Boys rawk, for realz!

    [heavy sigh]

    Aaaaanyways, mah moms gots home real late, like it was dark and times to goes to sleeps kinda late, for realz.

    AH-WHOO!

    Mah moms was soooooo tired, hers beated up dads…uh…do'h, that's naught right, either…d'oh, ah know…dad said hers was all beated up.

    SNIFF-SNIFF-SCRATCH-SCRATCH!

    Moms was upset and ah thinks hers looks awful sad, for realz.

    [blank stare]

    Do'h, but ah cants understands a word hers and dads spitted up….d'oh, that's naught right, either…they talkdid some see-ree-us stuff bouts Mama and Papa…oh, and mah other favorite human, Uncle Bud and…d'oh…ah just cants seem to make mah moms feels happy, anymores.

    [heavy sigh]

    D'oh yeah, ah remember now…um…ah gots to tell yous that hers cants comes out to plays, no mores…d'oh…that's naught right, either…'cause, everybodies knows mah moms likes yous, best.

    GRRRRRRRRRR

    Buuuut, ah knows whats best for hers and, well, hers needs somebodies to throw her a bone, or somethin', is all.

    SNIFF-SNIFF-SCRATCH-SCRATCH!

    Soooooo, seein as ah ates mine…d'oh…bone, ah mean…ah am goins to chase everybodies away from mah house!

    BARK-BARK-WOOF-BARKITY-WOOF-WOOF

    Things lots hairy, wif long ears and stupid squirrels, ah mean.

    GRRRRRRRRRR

    D'oh, oh yah, and have nice Monday…'cause…shee-yah..you can tell it Doofus-Dawg said so.

    BARK-BARK-WOOF-BARKITY-WOOF-WOOF

    You're welcome!

    Signed-doofus-dog

    © 2009 This Full House - All Rights Reserved.

  • The Future Looks Bleak, I Gotta Wear Spades!

    Cartomancy

    Alexey Venetsianov. Cartomancy.
    1842. Oil on canvas. The Russian Museum, St. Petersburg, Russia. (image source)

    I remember the first time I got "my cards read," I was only 13 (my middle girl's age) and it freaked me out, big time.

    Her name was Charlotte and she practiced "cartomancy," which sounds an awful lot like "gastromancy," but has nothing to do with being romantically involved with someone who works for the gas company — although, considering today's economy, it certainly would be a perk — she was, however, no "charlatan."

    "You will marry a man, with 5 letters in his name and you will have 4 children."

    See?

    "Your brother will have a career in the Army and marry the Colonel's daughter."

    HAH!  Actually, I think her father was a Sargent, or something!

    "You and your children will live a long and happy life."

    Perhaps it's because of my Hungarian upbringing.

    "You will find that you too have a special gift."

    Gosh, but my grandmother could tell wickedly scary ghost stories from the old country — but, I personally have seen some really wierd stuff to believe that there are many people who are indeed born with "special gifts." 

    [shiver]

    Like seeing far ahead into the future and helping others find their path(s) in life.

    "Use it wisely!"

    I am NOT one of those people.

    "Hey Mom, have you ever heard of Tarot cards?"

    Now, here's the thing.  I could say this:

    "Why yes, yes I have, in fact, I have a pack upstairs, in my lingerie drawer, right now!"

    Besides the fact that, you know, after 4 kids and nearly 20 years of marriage, sadly, there's just not much use for sexy lingerie, anymore.

    (shutup, Mominatrix!)

    "Wanna see?"

    Or, I could say this:

    "Why yes, in fact, a bunch of us moms went to a psychic party, but she wasn't as good as the guy I saw a few years ago, who told me that one of my children will inherit my grandmother's gift."

    Although, I can totally understand some people's need to feel as if there were some sort of pre-determined road ahead and that, somehow, someone, or something would be able to, you know, give them a heads up, about it, or something.

    "Yes, yes, your children WILL live a long and happy life."

    [knocks on wood until knuckles bleed]

    I'm just not quite sure I want to expose my kids to, for lack of a better term, anything that ends in "mancy."

    "Mom, are you listening to me?"

    My special gift?

    "Um…so, where did YOU hear about Tarot Cards?"

    I am an expert, however, in the art of changing "the subject."

    "I saw you looking through some books at Barnes & Noble, the other night."

    Stealth parenting?

    "Um…so, you want to go to the book store tonight?"

    Not so much.

    "Okay, I get it, something about your childhood and you just don't know how to talk about it, right now, right?" 

    See?

    "Yes, yes, I would LOVE to go to the book store!"

    Aaaaand, it seems to run in the family.

    "Somehow, I knew that you would!"

    (shutup Charlotte!)

    Liz@thisfullhouse signature

    © 2009 This Full House - All Rights Reserved.

  • Monday Morning With Doofus-Dawg: Ah Ate an Apple and Ah Liked It!

    Doofus-in-the-Dawg-House 

    D'oh, good mornin'…welcome to the dawg house.

    Mah mom is not heres, right now and…d'oh…excuse me a minute, puh-leeze.

    BARK-BARK-WOOF-BARKITY-WOOF-WOOF!

    D'oh, sorry 'bout that.  Ah hates some peoples, sometimes.  Don't yous?  Anyways.
     Mah mom is not heres, I think and…um…d'oh yeah…ah remembers now.

    [heavy sigh]

    Er…rum…ah…nuh…ah's in troubles, again.

    [blank stare]

    D'oh, yeah, ah remembers, now…ah tried to eat the garbage man…d'oh…that's naught right, either…'cause, everybody knows peoples tastes funny.

    SNORT!

    D'oh, ah tried to eat the garbage, again…[sneeze]…but, mah mom made it so ah can'ts git to it, anymores.

    AH-WHOO!

    Stupid child locks — ifs ah only had thumbs.

    SNORT!

    D'oh…aaaaaanyways…so, when theys wuz out visitin' with Mama and Papa, yesterdays…uh…ah think it was yesterdays…d'oh…aaaaaanyhow…ah was mad theys left me home…all alones…with the stupid catz…AGAIN!.

    BARK-BARK-WOOF-BARKITY-WOOF-WOOF

    Catz are mean, for realz!

    [heavy sigh]

    Sooooo, ah ate one of them thar apples mom keeps on the dinin' room tables and, you knows, ahs liked it!

    AH-WHOO!

    For realz.  Theys call it granny fanny…do'h, that's naught right, either…wil smith, maybe…d'oh, ah know…it wuz one of them thar granny smiths and ah like it, lots!

    [burp]

    Excuse me, puh-leeze.

    [pfff-ffft]

    D'oh, sorry 'bout that.  Ah hates it when apples do that.  Don't yous?

    SNIFF-SNIFF-SCRATCH-SCRATCH!

    Mah mom asked me tell somebody called Marvin…d'oh…that's naught right, either…d'oh, I remember now.

    [blank stare]

    Carmen…YAH-YAH!…mah mom made a cake…wif apples in it…and said yous wanted some…'cawse yous gots lots of apples at yous house, too…do'h, but ah can'ts come over…right now.

    BARK-BARK-WOOF-BARKITY-WOOF-WOOF

    Ah gots to keep the stupid peoples away from mah house…d'oh…but, mah mom said you's can haz her peas…do'oh…that's naught right, either…hers said yous can make mom's apple spice cake…and eats it, too!

    Here yous goes:

    (more…)

  • Completely Honest

     Honesty

    My friend and fellow Jersey girl Cartoon Goddess has challenged me to be completely honest and, well, contrary to everything I have ever been taught (most especially, by Billy Joel) honesty is NOT the hardest part.

    Saying 10 honest things about me, that you guys, you know, don't already know?

    After 6 years of blogging my deepest, darkest secrets (okay, so, except maybe mine is mostly about laundry and a bit more, I dunno, dark grayish) there really isn't much left to tell…or, is there?

    So, here it goes, 10 things that I have never, EVER told anyone, except maybe my husband, Garth [not his real name] but, he's not talking to me, at the moment, so, you know…

    (more…)

  • The House That Streptococcal Built and Other Tales of Bedside Manner

    Teenage Mutant Ninja

    A Self Portrait at Thirteen

    At ten, she was diagnosed with strep throat, nine times and was my only kid to have gone through surgery, twice, and well, did I mention she was born on a Wednesday?

    "Yes, it's positive, your son has strep throat."

    My ten-year-old son, however, is not a very good patient.

    "I…[snorf]…hate…[cough]…that…[snorf]…swab…[cough]…thing!"

    Me, either.

    "Sorry, Mrs. Thompson, but we're all out of lollipops!"

    DAMMIT!

    "That's okay, our pediatrician is our usual supplier."

    However, her office is anywhere from a fifteen minute to half-an-hour car drive away and, well, I decided to take my son down the road to the Doctor's Office, save myself the aggravation of dealing with Friday afternoon traffic and be back in time to pick up my youngest daughter from school.

    [phone rings]

    DAMMIT!  I didn't recognize the number, so I let it go to voicemail (you think that sucks, I understand) but, little did I know, my thirteen-year-old daughter and I were about to bond on a very intimate level.

    "There's an emergency!"

    Aaaaand, I couldn't be any more surprised if I woke up in the morning with my head sewn to George Clooney's carpet, or something like that.

    (more…)

  • PHEW! Smells Like Human!

    Doofus-dog

    This is my chair.  At the end of the day, when the light begins to fade and the last dish is washed (yes, stupid Bosch is STILL broken, DAMMIT) I remain patient, waiting for that final moment of release, as I breath deep, exhale and slip deep into my chair.

    "What the?"

    I can hear Cesar Millan, whispering, right now.

    "Wait a minute! You paid for your house! You go to work to pay for that couch and that bed, and yet you can’t use it because it “belongs” to the dog? Something’s very wrong there. If this describes you, then it’s time to take back your own home."

    Fine.  So, now what?

    "You must feel in your bones that you are the pack leader in the house, and project that calm-assertive energy."

    Yeah, but, see, in my house, calm and assertive just don't mix.

    "If you assert true leadership, your dog will not be sad, or hate you, or resent you, even if you take back the place on the sofa."

    Yeah, but, see, sad eyes just kill me.

    "Having a leader is hardwired into your dog’s brain – that’s what he both needs and wants."

    Yeah, but.

    "Take advantage of that and go ahead, sit on your couch again!"

    Okay, seeing as your the expert and all.

    "But you have to really mean it."

    FINE!

    "GET OFF THE COUCH!!!"

    Aaaand, I NEVER saw 4 kids, move so fast, in my life.

    Morale of the Story:  Jerry Seinfeld is right — dogs are the leaders of the planet. If you see two life forms, one of them's making a poop, the other one's carrying it for him, who would you assume is in charge? 

    SHUTUP, Cesar!

    Liz@thisfullhouse signature

    © 2009 This Full House - All Rights Reserved.

  • Nearly Wordless Wednesday: Don’t Sweat the Dirty Laundry

    Folding Party at This Full House!

    Sure, when my mother's over, it's a folding party and…NO!…I was NOT even invited!

    Although, I gave up hope of ever "finishing" the laundry, a long time ago, I still think it's cute how my mother comes over and gets my kids to help her fold their laundry, sort of.

    "I can't believe that this basket is full of JUST socks!"

    6 pairs of feet make for a lot of socks, I guess.  Still.  It's easier to holler at the kids, when they're getting ready for soccer, field hockey, or whatever else requires some extrasensory protection against stinky sports equipment.

    "DID YOU CHECK IN THE SOCK BASKET???"

    Now that the cooler weather is here, we're going to be hitting the sock basket (pretty hard) and, well, while most people would probably think that blogging about my mother, folding my laundry, with my kids, is pretty, you know, sad and a pathetic state of the blogging universe, these days, really.

    "Ewww, this one still looks….crusty."

    On the surface, it's snot.

    "Like boogers, right?"

    To a wigged-out, frustrated and disenchanted blogger (like me) it's all about seizing the moment, to be able to look a little deeper, then commit all of your thoughts and feelings into a few short paragraphs, well, some folks would STILL consider this to be just a silly little story.

    "Only Mama can make even folding laundry…look fun!"

    I call it sublime poetry.

    CLICK!

    "You're not going to blog that, are you?"

    I just don't sweat the dirty laundry, all that much, anymore.

    Check out the Official Wordless Wednesday HQ
    Tag, you're it:   

    In Other News:  Nestle Family Blogger Event – Lessons Learned, Social Media and Twitter

    Liz@thisfullhouse signature

    © 2009 This Full House - All Rights Reserved

  • Rinse, Spit and Don’t Bother Repeating Yourself, I’ll Wait!

    She spits like a boy!

    Look, she spits just like a little brother!

    My 3 girls argue, a lot.  Sometimes, it's over really dumb stuff, like, I don't know, this one is copying that one, while the other one is always annoying everyone else (guess which one, go ahead, I'll wait) but, having 3 sisters, who argue, about dumb stuff, all the time, can be awfully hard on a guy.

    Still.

    At our house, when push comes to shove, it's the teens vs. the tweens and, well, guess who gets to referee?  Go ahead, I'll wait.

    NOBODY!

    "You are such a loser!"

    Not anymore.

    "Well, you are a bigger loser!"

    Especially, now that they're older.

    "Nuh-uh!"

    It's a never-ending battle of the, yuh-huh's.

    "Yuh-huh!"

    See what I mean?

    "ENOUGH!"

    Still, I'm tired; not getting any younger, either (DAMMIT!) and, well, enough is enough, right?  

    "I MEAN, IF I HAD A DOLLAR FOR EACH TIME I WISH I HAD A SISTER!!!"

    I mean, I don't really remember the last time I really "talked" to my kids, without hollering, first.

    [blank stares]

    Honestly, I'm getting really tired of reminding my kids how I don't see my twin brother as often as I'd like and just how lucky they are to, you know, have each other to argue with, since no one ever seems to want to listen to me.

    "Mom, what ARE you talking about?"

    See?

    "Why would you call your sister a loser, like that?"

    [blank stares]

    "Catch a grip, Mom; I'm just congratulating Heather for losing all that extra weight she picked up since her surgery."

    [blank stare]

    "Well, I bet you can't spit as far as Hopey can!"

    Okay, so I may not be the quietest, most smartest mother in the world.

    "Ready…set…go!"

    But, I'm certainly not the dumbest.  Guess who won?  Go ahead, I'll wait!

    Liz@thisfullhouse signature

    © 2009 This Full House - All Rights Reserved

  • The Back-to-School Night That Almost Wasn’t

    Better with age

    Earlier this month, on the first day of school, I posted this video on TheMotherhood.com and went on…and on…about how, after having recently earned my 15 year pin (okay, not really, but parenthood ain't all sunshine and rainbows, so they really should give us something, right?) I am JUST NOW learning how to breath.

    • Conference call
    • Doctor's appointment
    • Conference call
    • Field Hockey Game
    • Soccer Practice
    • Back-to-School Night #3

    Yeah, well, I lied.  

    [heavy sigh]

    I also remember saying something about, "not being a big fan of back-to-school nights" and how, you know, I just don't like doing them anymore.

    "Are we going tonight, Momma?"

    Then, I remembered something else.

    "Yep, as soon as Daddy gets here."

    My oldest kid is a sophomore in high school.

    "Then, we can go."

    But, I missed her freshman orientation and, well, my parents never met any of my high school teachers, or were ever really able to play an active role in our community (with both of them working full-time and part-time jobs, I don't blame them) so, I went.

    "Are you ready, Momma?"

    As ready as I'll ever be, after:

    • Dropping Holly and Hope at Glen's soccer practice
    • Loaning coach Glen's social studies book (sucks to be his son, right now)
    • Picking up Heather from field hockey
    • Meeting my husband back at Glen's soccer practice
    • Dropping Hope and Heather off at home

    Then a quick potty stop…for me…of course.

    "You used to be a lot more Zen!"

    I hate it when other mothers remember stuff, like that.

    "What happened?"

    It's true.  I used to be real cool and calm about stuff, when my kids were little(er), while other mothers were all, like, ACK, but snow days and television ARE the devil!!!

    Holly pretended not to know me, but it didn't work.

    "Hi, I'm Holly's mom!"

    See?

    "Yes, well, you walked in with her, so…."

    Yes, I took her with me.  Hello?  4 kids in 4 different schools.  16 teachers between them.  Lucky if I remember my kids' names.  Still.  It was sort of fun to sit next to her and make fun of…I mean…get to know the other parents and stuff.

    "You are such a child!"

    See?

    We got to sit all of 10 minutes, before it was time to head over to…uh…I think it was Biology…maybe, English…I forget.

    "Which one is yours?"

    But, I wanted to check out the biographies posted on the back wall and found Holly's, right away.  It was easy — she loves to draw anime.

    • Favorite Sports:  None
    • Favorite Athelete:  None
    • Favorite Outdoor Activity:  None

    Oh, and Holly hates sports and the kid who would love to live in the city.

    Thank goodness, seeing as 3 outta 4 of my kids like sports and, well, I needed someone to stay home, or at least pretend like staying home is, you know, a good thing, too.

    Then, I saw this:

    • My Hero:  Mom

    Aaaand, well, you know, I am just really, really glad I went.

    "I'm hungry!"

    Besides, once your kids get older, perhaps one day you will also begin to believe that back-to-school night isn't really all that bad, after all.

    "Wanna get McDonald's?"

    It's sort of like date night, with kids, only a whole lot cheaper and without all the busted plumbing.

    "Sure, after I call your grandparents, before they go to bed, to tell them Heather won't need anymore butt surgery!!!"

    Aren't you glad I didn't take Twitter?

    Liz@thisfullhouse signature

    © 2009 This Full House - All Rights Reserved