This Full House Archive

Category: Sick Days and Mondays Always Get Me Down

  • How Many Geico Commercials DOES it Take to Push ME Over the Edge?



     

    Having spent the last few days recuperating from surgery (crankcase overhaul, overall, was successfully, THANKS!) only to be rushed back to the doctor's office with perhaps the worst bronchial infection, ever (SURPRISE!!!) THEN having to re-recuperate, while under the influence of prednisone (i.e. synonym for CRAZY) well, the last few days HAVE been an enlightening experience.

    For example, stuff I learned while under the influence of prednisone:

    • The definition of ironic:  electing to go through total crankcase overhaul to aleve wicked pre-pre-menopausal symptoms (you're welcome!) and then being prescribed prednisone, which then induces hot flashes and cold sweats.
    • Go figure, since my husband, Garth (not his real name) has referred to me in the past as his, "salty wench."
    • To which, much to the HORROR of my children, I began singing, "Pour some Mustard on Me!" during dinner, yesterday.
    • To which, Garth (not his real name) started hiding the sharp stuff.
    • My husband, Garth (not his real name) would make someone a WONDERFUL wife (fuhgehtaboutit, I'm keeping him!)
    • Watch those Geico commercials enough times (especially, that one up there) and they actually start looking, you know, pretty funny.

    This one, however, makes me kinda sorta want to cut someone, actually!!!

    I rest my case, stupid steroids.

    DISCLOSURE:  This post is in NO WAY an endorsement for Geico and…NO!…I am NOT going to actually cut someone, for real.  Besides, I am NOT allowed to use sharp stuff (remember?) not until I at least finish my prescription…Thanksgiving Day.

    Why…YES!…yes, we ARE hosting Thanksgiving dinner this year; why, you want to come over?

    C'mon, there's ALWAYS room for one more [cough…cough] CRAZY [cough…cough] and we could REALLY, REALLY use some more mustard!

    UPDATED TO ADD:  Ventured out for 1st time in almost a week without incident (YAY!) Only to trip in living room & bust up my knee cap while getting a jump start on Thanksgiving cleaning.  Don't worry, Garth (not his real name) ripped me a new one for it. #iklutz

    © 2003 – 2010 This Full House Blog

  • 7 Years of a Mom Blog Series:
    I Can’t Sleep

    Maxine at computer
    I'm heading into the hospital…erm…having my engine steam cleaned, later this week and meeting with my Gynecol…MECHANIC!…to discuss biopsy…I mean…PERFORMANCE EFFICIENCY DIAGNOSTICS…but, I'll find out more about that, later.

    [UPDATE:  Diagnostics came back negative and that is SUCH A GOOD THING, REALLY!  So, putting my chasis into the shop for fine tuning is a GO for today!!!]

    What?

    Yeah.  I'm old.  Still.  Trust me when I tell you…it's NOT the years honey…it's the mileage…and I've got something REAL special, just for you (yes, YOU!) while I'm gone.

    [reaches deep into pockets]

    WAIT!  Don't go, I promise, it's nothing tooooo graphic or gross (this time) but, kind of, sort of fun actually.

    You see, my oldest was reading this year's birthday post (7th one I've written, as a matter of fact) and she dug up some old…VINTAGE!…blog posts from way back in 2003.

    You know, when social media meant you were THRILLED just to make it onto someone's blogroll?!?

    Ahem.

    So, begins the 7 Years of a Mom Blog series of republished blog posts I wrote EXACTLY 7 years ago, today.

    Keeping score:  we had 3 cats, no doofus, kids were 10, 7, 4 and 2 at the time.

    7 years ago today:  a blog post written while under the influence of a sleeping aide induced fog…ENJOY!!!

     

    (more…)

  • A Womb With a View

    Riverview

    This is one of my favorite views this side of Jersey (Bon Jovi lives just across the river, right over there, see him?) I took that pic with my cell phone (yes, my camera is STILL broken) while waiting for my pre-admissions stuff, the other day.

    What?  The dude sitting next to me took one, too!  It really is a beautiful view.

    When my oldest daughter was born (nearly 17 years ago, this Friday, ACK!) every expectant mother hoped for a "river view," just like that, from their hospital window.

    I was NOT one of those moms.

    Nuh-uh, I was a leeee-tull busy at the time.  After 17 hours of labor, you coulda put me in a dumpster, I wouldn't have minded, just GET THIS KID OUTTA ME!

    "HIYA!"

    So, I thought.  Back then, they didn't have private post-natal rooms and my roomie was, well, one mother of a P.I.T.A.!!!

    "This is my first, too!"

    Seriously?  I don't remember her name.  However, I do recall that Mother Earth told me that she was "breast feeding on demand" (I think she might have even gotten cable on those puppies) while I elected to bottle feed (no flaming, just would have been nice to have similar feeding schedules) and she spoke about two octaves higher than a normal person, which made her even MORE annoying than a lactating wood chipper!

    I glanced over her shoulder, out the window and pretended I was anywhere, but here.

    "I can't WAIT to have another!"

    Then, I puked.

    "Oh, you poor thing."

    Aaaand, so ended our conversation and any further sympathy, or courtesy I would get from Mother Earth.

    She had at least a half a dozen visitors, coming, or going, at any given time and, let me tell you, the LAST thing any new mother needs, especially one who's been ripped through, from top to bottom, by something the size of a watermelon (you're welcome) is a bunch of gooney-goo-goo-eyed strangers asking her, "Sooooo, what did you haaaaaave?"

    "A watermelon, I think."

    Didn't help that the toilet was on MY side of the room, either.

    [FLUSH]

    "HIYA, sooooo, what did YOU haaaaaave?"

    Aaaand, that's when I lost it.

    "BWAHHHHH!"

    Long story, short (no, really, you're welcome!) they gave me my own room and, for the next 12 hours, I slept like a baby.

    "HIYA!"

    [We interrupt this day dream to bring you…death by wood chipper]

    I crash landed back and, no, it wasn't Mother Earth (that would be REAL weird, right?) but, it was nice to see my SIL come down to check on me (she happens to work at this hospital) and, well, you gotta love karma, right?

    "Great view, isn't it?"

    Yeah, it really is (albeit, a little melancholy, this time around) and, even though I am half-passed-too-old and a-quarter-to-menopause (ain't being a woman, grand?) I can't help but feel a little sad that, next time, you know, there REALLY won't be a next time.

    "The water looks smooth as glass."

    Good thing there was a bathroom, right there, too!

    [FLUSH]

    Stupid river view.

    Stopdiabetes

    © 2010 This Full House Blog / TFH Gone Shopping

  • Nearly Wordless Wednesday:
    The Dance

    Theresa 1964
    My mother's baby sister, Aunt Theresa (holding me) her friend (holding my brother) my dad, my mom and Nagy Mama late spring, 1964.

    Theresa Sassy'nit Up on the Dance Floor! 04/30/52 – 11/02/10

    My Aunt Theresa sass'nit up on the dance floor (with me) on my wedding day (August 25, 1990) whose last wish was to be buried in the same awesomely sassy dress, tomorrow. 

    Until we meet again…save me a dance, my sweet and awesomely sassy Keresztmama (Godmother, in Hungarian) you will be missed, never forgotten and forever loved for ALL your sassyness and more!!! 

    Forever yours, Sziszike.

    Friggin' Diabetes.

    Stopdiabetes

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

  • In Which I Discuss My Girly Bits in Manly Terms

    Giving Men A Dose of Menopause [Source]

    I went out to lunch with a mom friend, who also happens to be a pharmacist (don't have one, get one!) and it didn't take long for the conversation to turn all, you know, clinical.

    "How about those hormonal replacement therapies, eh?"

    I mean, it sort of goes with the territory.  Besides, I'm a mom, she's a mom and you know you're a mom when you can comfortably discuss your entire reproductive system over a cobb salad, right?

    "So, you're going forward with the edometrial ablation?"

    What?  Oh.  Sorry.  But, it felt SO GREAT to be able to FINALLY talk about this sort of…uh…stuff with someone who understands, or can empathize and not just in clinical terms, either. 

    Sort of like blogging. 

    There's something really very therapeutic about being able to, literally, write your way into a healthier state of mind, right?

    Riiiiiiiight.

    Which is probably the reason why my blog was voted #8 most confessional last year (anti-alpha mom, indeed!) 

    Still.  At the risk of sliding into the #1 spot in 2010 (congratulations, Mir!) I'd like to continue discussing the trouble with my girly bits in the most manly way I know how.

    In mechanical terms.

    [cracks knuckles]

    Ready?

    Last 5 Years:

    I've been experiencing brief instances of heavy load and sudden acceleration and, for fear of causing any further internal engine damage, I thought it was indeed way passed time for a professional assessment.

    2 Weeks Ago:

    A brief, superficial inspection under the hood confirmed a breach in the combustion chamber and carbon build up on the outside of the engine wall.

    It was determined that additional performance-related diagnostic information was required.

    Last Week:

    Diagnostics further determined that the engine crankcase was crammed and required pressure relief; the sooner, the better.

    Today:

    However, to be sure that the flame arrester is operable (in case of backfire, we wouldn't want the flame in the intake to spread to the crankcase) they're going to scrape carbon off the pistons for further analysis.

    Prognosis:

    Diagnostics should be available in a couple of weeks, when further assessment will be made as to whether the flame has NOT spread to the crankcase, in which firing the exhaust tip (as scheduled for later next month) should alleviate the problem, or else a complete removal of the crank shaft and/or power wash of the engine is highly recommended.

    But, that's between me and my mom mechanic.

    [hands over dessert menu]

    You're welcome!!!

    © 2010 This Full House Blog / TFH Gone Shopping

  • 7 Truths About 7 Bloggers, Maybe

    VersatileBloggerAward
    Having recently entered my 8th year of blogging (I know, I'm old, shuddup!) I feel it safe to say that…why, YES!…I am very, very versatile (AM SO!) and not because my friend Mrs. Schmitty said so, either.

    [throws check in the mail]

    Coming up with new, light-hearted and entertaining stuff to write about is hard (I know, sorta hurts to read, too — sheesh, but Monday's a ROUGH crowd!) keeping in mind that not EVERYONE who stops by here is necessarily interested in reading about non-controversial stuff (I know, act surprised, anyway) or, the fact that it just so happens my blog is ranked #1 on Google for, "it's your birthday make a mess" is even harder (yes, it's a word!)

    Still, there are those who would beg to differ (I'm not quite sure what is wrong with them, either) and I am very, very, honored to be able to call them…my friends!

    No payment, necessary.

    So, yah, I am very pleased to accept The Versatile Blogger Award (thank you and please don't cash that check until Friday, okay Mrs. Schmitty?) and now I'm supposed to tell you 7 truths about myself and then pay my award forward to 7 bloggers.

    [the sound of many doors, SLAMMING!]

    Are they gone yet?

    [phew]

    Good.  Aaaand, if you're STILL here, well, just know that there is a special place in heaven (or, a close facsimile thereof) for those who indulge professional dorks, like me.

    So, for your reading pleasure, 7 Truths About 7 Bloggers…Maybe:

    (more…)

  • Surviving Foot in Mouth Disease

    I ran into a friend of mine at the drug store, on Saturday — seriously, nearly knocked her over right in front of the feminine products aisle — we haven't seen each other since, well, the last days of school and spent the next few minutes, you know, catching up.

    "Enjoying a nice, quiet summer, I hope?"

    I continued to babble on and on, trying to distract her from noticing the fact that I had NOT shaved my legs in two weeks (you're welcome!) by saying something about my two most favorite days of the year being the last day of school AND the first day of school!

    "Did you hear that my mother died?

    Aaaaand then, my brain screeched to a halt.

    "Oh…no…I am SO sorry."

    As, I lied (like a cheap rug) and pretended that I hadn't heard of the poor woman's loss.

    (more…)

  • Who’s Been Sitting in My Chair and Why is My Kid Calling it Mom?

    Mommy's Little Doppelganger

    My husband, Garth (not his real name) met me at the train station on Sunday and, after taking a quick look at my swollen legs, scaly arms, blistering hands and blotchy neck (you're welcome!) believing that my recent poison ivy infection had somehow morphed into leprosy (ditto) he drove me straight to the doctor's office.

    "I can't breath."

    Apparently, I still hadn't gotten over an unexpected trip to a NYC hospital and BusyMom wasn't around.

    (more…)

  • Monday Morning With Doofus-Dawg: Well, it WAS morning the last times ahs-looked, anyways!

    DoofusDawg Monday

    YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAWN!  D'oh, hello…eyes didn't sees yous come in all quiet like.

    [smacks lips]

    Mah name is Doofus-dog.

    Ma ain'ts at her desk, right now and…d'oh…she ask-did me to…uh…excuse me a minute, puh-leeze.

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

    D'oh, sorry 'bout that.  Ah hates squirrels.  Don'ts yous?  Anyways.
     Ma ain'ts here, ah think and…um…d'oh yeah…ah remember now.

    WOOF-WOOF-BARK-WOOFITY-BARK-BARK!

    Stupid squirrels!

    D'oh, aaaanyways, Ma is a bear…um…buffallo…no, that ain'ts it…wait, ah remember now…she's a bee…uh…she's be busier than a cat covering up poop on a cee-ment floor, right now…d'oh…whatever that means.

    SCRATCH-SCRATCH-SCRATCH!

    "Cawse ahs knows, and yous knows cats is stoopid.

    SNORT!

    D'oh, hello…wait a minute…do ah know yous?

    [heavy sigh]

    D'oh yeah, ah remember now…um…ah'm supposed to tell yous that too-mahr-raws another day…d'oh…that's naught right, either…'cause, everybody knows too-mahr-raws the today that yous forgot all about yesterdays.

    SNORT!

    Nah, hers 'puter brokedid aaaaay-ghenn (NO, AH DID NAUGHT BROKEDIDIT!!!) but, she's busy plannin' some-in, 'cawse some-ins happenins the day after too-mahr-raws and that some-ins gonna REAL GOOD, too..brokedid 'puter or naught!

    AAAAAHWOOO!

    D'oh, hello…wait a minute…do ah knows yous?

    YAAAAAAAAAAAWN!

    D'oh, oh yah, well, I hopes yous had a real nice Monday and if yous did'n…well…there's always too-mahr-raw and…shee-yah…theys plenty more room on dis-heres couch.

    BARK-BARK-WOOF-BARKITY-WOOF-WOOF

    Have a nice day, too-mahr-raws!

    Signed-doofus-dog

    © 2009 This Full House Blog – All Rights Reserved.

  • Love is Hopeful


    Love Thursday Red Skies

    Hope is a word that I use often and not just because it happens to be my youngest daughter's name (a.k.a. mommy's little ticket into heaven) but, after years of exhaustive study (i.e. stupid insomnia!) I've come to the conclusion that, for me, the benefits of remaining hopeful far outweigh the risks of considering an alternate ending.

    Then, life throws a curve ball and knocks those rose-colored glassed right off of my face and, well, maybe if I had remembered to wear my crash helmet…

    "The doctors found something."

    …but, this is NOT about me.

    "Why did you wait to tell me?"

    It's about watching the people I love the most, get smacked in the soft-squishy areas, time and time again, where your body's immediate reaction is to double over and puke…

    "What could you have done?"

    …and the best I could do is, you know, hold the bucket.

    "But, I could have been there."

    Then again, I could think of worse things.

    "Wow, would you look at that!"

    Which is what I was doing (thinking of worse things, I mean) when she (and, I can't tell you exactly who) pointed at the sky and, well, it took my breath away.

    "Looks like fingers reaching out from heaven, doesn't it?"

    Okay, but I was thinking more like strands of cotton candy.

    "Thank you."

    It was when she poked me that I realized, you know, she wasn't talking to the sky.

    "For what?"

    Then again, she might as well have been.

    "For just…you know…letting me be…right here…with you guys."

    And so, I remain, yours truly and totally filled with hope and perhaps just a dash of anxiety, for good measure.

    "Man, would you look at the guns on that guy!!!"

    Because, I may (or may not) have used that expression in front of my 9 year-old, before (especially, when watching this chef create the most impossible dinners) and, well, what DOES he have to do with all this?

    "Wow, yeah, you want me to ask him if he's married?"

    Absolutely nothing…and everything…because, hope is also contagious.

    "Yep, you ARE your mother's daughter."

    Aaaand, I'm totally keeping her…I mean, it…d'oh…because, I also believe that Hope has this way of making us ALL smile, inspite of ourselves.

    "But, you are ALREADY married…mommy…der!" 

    Aaaand, I'm sticking to it…to her…d'oh…you know what I mean, right?

    Happy Love Thursday, everyone!

    © 2010 This Full House Blog