This Full House Archive

Category: School Daze

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

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]

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.

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.

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) 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

September 17, 2010
Barefoot Parenting
(Pants ARE optional!)

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]

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?!?"

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!"

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.

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

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?

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?

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?"

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

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

September 13, 2010
The 11th First Day of School

"Wait, let me take your picture!!!"

My 11 year-old son (the ONLY boy in the house, btw) is smiling, but inside I know that he was all, like, JEEZ!

"CRAP! Wait, it's too dark!"

Frankly, the kid has lived with me long enough to know that, you know, it's just easier to pretend EVERYONE'S mother is a dork (like me) especially, on the first day of school.

"Okay, now, smile!"

DAMMIT! Hang on. Can I just, you know, UGH!!! Wait a minute. Is he? Nooooo. Who am I kidding? Maybe he was just wiping some leftover sleep from his eye. Or, a bug flew up his nose (it COULD happen) still, it would be nice to think that my kids, you know, like having me around, kind of, sort of, too.

"Wait, let me take your picture!!!"

My youngest daughter (she's 9) was packed and ready to start school, a couple of weeks ago and, no, I can't say as I blame her.

"CRAP! Wait, it's too light!"

She's the last of my kids to ever enter the 4th grade and, I'm sorry, but I just don't remember the other 3 ever looking THIS little.

"Okay, now, smile!"

DAMMIT! They just NEVER wait, anymore, do they? Maybe she was feeling sorry for her baby sister (ahem) or, because she's a freshman now and doesn't start HER high school until next week (SOB!) still, it would be nice to think that my kids, you know, really do like each other, kind of, sort of, too.

"Wait a minute…"

[scrolls thru cell phone]

"…who did I forget?"

DAMMIT! I'm just NOT ready to admit that MY OLDEST IS A JUNIOR IN HIGH SCHOOL!!! Maybe, it was just WAY too early in the morning and I couldn't find my phone (it COULD happen) still, it would be nice to think that she already knows, after ALL these years, I love her, just the same.

Wait a minute!

Does a "night before school starts" picture of my coloring her hair count for at least something?!?

[sound of many crickets, chirping]

Besides, the fact that, you know, YES, I am one of THOSE moms and, well, there could be worse things.

[ducks lightning bolt]

Like, she could have a mother stupid enough to actually leave that picture (up there) on Flickr, right?

[cricket]

Riiiiiight. Wait a minute. She DOES read my blog. D'OH! Never mind.

© 2010 This Full House / This Full House Gone Shopping

September 3, 2010
Hump Day: Breakfast of Champions (i.e. Holy Hannah Montana, It IS the Week From Hell, Week!)

If you have a kid graduating/promoting/stressing over her hair for the 8th grade formal/and/or, celebrating a birthday, this week…then, you know I meant the Pepto Bismol, right?

Wake me up when Monday comes!!!

© 2010 This Full House Blog

June 16, 2010
The Boy Who Lived, Without
A Bedroom Door?

Hopey's puppet of a mean principal that's supposed to be a clown (says, she was told to think out of the box) displayed at the coffee counter (or, caw-fee, if you're from Jersey)

Last week (I think) our school district held a book fair at our local Barnes & Noble and my two youngest children were invited to read their persuasive writing pieces.

"So, what's yours about?"

My almost-9-year-old daughter wrote about being tall enough (FINALLY!) to experience her first ride on "a real roller coaster" during a visit to Casino Pier in Seaside Heights, NJ last June.

"Aaaand, what did you pick?"

My 11 year-old son's piece was a little closer to home.

"Mine is about convincing you and dad to give me a door!"

We have doors. Lots of them. There's the front door, the back door, the bathroom door.

[takes breath]

There's the door that leads to the girls' bedroom and the h…e…double…hockey…sticks that is [gulp] their bathroom!

"Because, you know, everyone ELSE has a door."

My son's bedroom is upstairs, like mine, but his is at the top of the stairs and, well, long story short (you're welcome!) no, he doesn't have door.

[gulp]

"You didn't write anything that would, you know, embarrass mom, or dad, right?"

Because, heaven knows, I sure as heck wouldn't (ahem!) and, well, everyone knows that karma is a witch, right?

Riiiiiiight.

Even longer story, shorter (seriously, you should be thanking me!) oh yes, there was lots of lamenting about stuff, like:

(a) Being the only boy, stinks.

(b) Having a bedroom without a door, stinks even more.

(c) Having the litter box…in his room…you guessed it…stinks, BIGTIME.

(d) His sisters are barging in all the time.

(e) Refer to (a) above.

In hindsight, I should be glad that their readings were held in the cafe.

"What did he just say?"

Aaaand, that the blender was really, really loud.

"He can't keep the girls out of his bedroom!"

[eyes go wide]

"No, I don't think he means regular girls…dear."

[one beat, two beats]

"Oh, well, no wonder his parents won't give him a door!"

Not for nothing, but you gotta love senior citizens (they were sisters, I think) but, I don't believe a hearing aide would have made a difference, either way and I shudder to think what the sweet old lady meant by "un-regular" girls.

"What is your boy's name?"

[bites lower lip]

"Harry…Harry Potter."

Aaaand, he's moving…to the closet…under the stairs…next week!

"Oh, that's nice dear."

I mean, it DOES have a door (sort of!)

© 2010 This Full House Blog

June 9, 2010
Secretly, Secret Vlog

Secretly, Secret Vlog from Liz Thompson on Vimeo.

This is what happens, when you go to work and one of your kids "accidentally" finds your Flip camera and attempts to video tape one of her sisters "not on purpose," of course!

[snort]

Such drama, eh? Love that she mentions my blog:

"Do you think I survived, or do you think I died (i.e. she got busted and her sister killed her) leave your answer on ThisFullHouse.com!"

Can't wait to see what happens during their summer break, if it EVER gets here, I mean!

© 2010 This Full House Blog

June 7, 2010
Change is Good, Failing is Better

I took this picture of Hope and Glen (my two youngest) in 2005 — the year my parents moved out of the house I grew up in — and, already, my son was very protective of his baby sister.

"I don't want her to fall in da wah-der!"

Didn't matter that my father's koi pond was only about ankle-deep; in true Thompson fashion, my son is a born worrier (he gets that from his father) and, well, his concern for the physical and emotional well-being of everyone around him was sort of, you know, cute.

Last night, however, turned chronic.

"I can't make ANYONE happy."

5 years have passed (I know, wasn't it just yesterday I was blogging about his peeing on a tree?) and, although the stories are pretty much the same (only, with less pee) I find myself feeling as if we BOTH haven't learned a gosh-darned thing.

"I don't understand?"

You see, my 11 year-old son is entering middle school next year and long story short (you're welcome!) let's just say the boy is feeling a little stressed.

"My teacher, you and dad, are ALL pushing me!"

Okay, A LOT STRESSED.

"To do what?"

Seriously, the kid was blowing snot and — although, my husband and I had already had a talk with his teacher and discussed her concerns over his penchant for day dreaming — he's been carrying and A/B average and I was at a loss as to why he was SO upset.

"I'm going to fail."

Oh. I know this one. In fact, 5 years ago, during my middle girl's parent-teacher conference, I was the ONLY parent to cheer when her 3rd grade teacher told me that she had failed her 1st math test.

"It's about time the kid learns to fail, something!"

Her teacher agreed, btw.

"All your father and I care about is that you do your best."

Apparently, my son's teacher feels differently.

"She said I was going to get absolutely lost in Middle School!"

Look, I get it. I couldn't do what she does — teach, someone else's kid, I mean — however, I know my son and — although, I think, having our kids attend K-3, switch to another school for grades 4 and 5, and then again to the middle school, our school system hasn't helped to make it ANY easier — this time, I believe the change will do him good.

"I think you're going to be just fine."

For the next 3 years, anyway.

"Just ask Holly and Heather!"

My 2 oldest daughters have already given him a run down of all the cool teachers and the, you know, not so cool teachers he'll probably get…in middle school.

"What are you doing, Hope?"

My youngest daughter (she's 8) ran out of the room to grab a pen and piece of paper.

"I want to write a letter to the principal of my new school…"

She's graduating 3rd grade next month and is changing schools, too, OY!

"…and I want to tell her that I want Holly's and Heather's teachers, ONLY!"

If ONLY life was that easy, right?

"Don't worry, Hopey, I already told her AND the nurse that my youngest sister is coming!"

You see, some things NEVER change AND my son happens to know that his baby sister is a frequent flyer!

"The nurse's office has got PLENTY of band aids!"

Hope, however, rolls like her mother.

© 2010 This Full House

May 21, 2010
Wordless Wednesday
Ocean’s Eleven

Photograph courtesy of my 11 year-old son, who FINALLY aced his last math test and has a penchant for blue.

What? It was either a $9.00 bottle of color, or a new cell phone — yes, I am also ONE OF THOSE parents!

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

© 2010 This Full House - All Rights Reserved.

May 12, 2010
No Business 4 Boyz

My 8 year-old is SUCH a free spirit and, unlike her sisters, is a bit of a Tomboy, as well (she gets that from me) and, well, being the youngest of 4, the survival instinct is strong with this one.

"I wanna do the Lip Sync show, again!"

Last year, her older sisters helped choreograph Hope and her friends in performing, "We Got the Beat" by the GoGos and, more importantly, I didn't have to do a gosh-darned thing, other than, you know, drive them to and from the show.

"Am I picking your daughters up at school, or your house?"

This year, however, I did even less.

"I dunno?"

Lip-sync-related stuff, I mean.

"What time do we have to be there?"

My father was scheduled for major surgery and, well, if you were to ask me a week ago, at this EXACT time, exactly what was on my mind, I would have said…uh…I dunno, what day is it, again?

"The show starts at 7 o'clock!"

However, by Friday they had kicked my dad out of the hospital (thank you for ALL the good thoughts, btw, they worked) and he's recovering, quite well.

"Can't wait to see the show!"

I was so ready for the week to be over, but had no clue what to expect, other than their act was based on the Risky Business dance scene, this Heidi Klum Guitar Hero commercial and one of my favorite episodes of The Nanny (you know, Fran Drescher…she tawks funny) and they called themselves, No Business 4 Boyz!

They did a FABULOUS job, right (Hope is the cutey on the left) so, who's the boy?

"What a good big brother you are!"

Apparently, my oldest daughter bribed my 11 year-old son to play the part of the "boss man" (for the latest issue of his favorite wrestling magazine, I think) and extortion sorta runs in the family…here in Jersey, anyways.

"I had to sit in a room full of screaming girls!"

I'm sorta glad it's over, too.

"I almost threw up."

Aaaaand, I'm grateful that, as they get older, my kids really seem to enjoy helping each other out.

"But, I just swallowed it and walked on stage."

Mostly.

© 2010 This Full House - All Rights Reserved.

May 10, 2010
Parenting Tip #2,100,382:
Always Learn the Rules, So You Can Break Them Properly

I'm a BIG believer in Karma — what comes around goes around, you get what you give and all that — it's simple, easy to remember and exactly the sort of logic required, to help ward off a sixth sense for getting myself into trouble,.

In other words, I am very capable of making an asshat out of myself, without anyone's help…thankyouverymuch, Mr. Dalai Lama!

For example: Wednesday – I wrote a post, on my shopping blog, about raising free spirits and teaching my girls to embrace their own sense of style.

KARMA…KARMA…KARMA…BAM!

Then, yesterday morning, I got home, saw the red light blinking on the answering machine and thought about, you know, ignoring it.

I mean, it could have been HGTV.

"Congratulations, you've been chosen as the winner of Green Home 2010!"

Probably not.

"Uh, hi, Mom, it's me, Glen…"

[wince]

"…um…well…uh…I'm in the principal's office…"

Seriously?

"…I got in trouble for wearing my wrestling t-shirt."

Yesterday, my son was sent to the principal's office for "inappropriate" attire and, well, I kinda, sorta KNEW that he was breaking the dress code and, you know, sent him to school, anyway.

"Are they gonna let you wear
that shirt?"

I wish I could say it was a rebellious need to question the school's authority in deciding what my kids should eat, drink and/or wear — although, I sometimes do think folks are getting a little, you know, militant about that sort of stuff — rather than, admit it was a simple attack of mommy brain.

"Yeah, I wore it to school lots of times."

Honestly, I guess I was just feeling really tired of arguing (ALL THE TIME) and, well, we were already late for our carpool.

"Fine."

Besides, it's about time my kids started accepting responsibility for their actions and, well, maybe even I can learn how to quit blaming myself, for every little thing they do wrong, right?

[beep]

Odd. He hung up. Oh, well…look, there's another message…maaaaaaaybe…

"Um…I forgot…you need to come to school and bring me a new shirt!"

D'oh…shuddup Dalai Lama…stupid HGTV!,

© 2010 This Full House - All Rights Reserved.

April 23, 2010