Seriously, see that sign up there – I actually got it for my girls (all 3 share a room) and hung it on their bedroom door – I can’t believe it’s Monday, already! The kids have been home for 4 days, already and we’re about to get some new visitors, as This Full House is now a "Moms" All top site.
Say, WHAT?
The Boy (he’s 9) had a friend sleepover on Friday and, after his mom dropped him off, I asked for his backpack, pointed out where he and The Boy would sleep (I mean, the couch IS right next to the front door) and then I knelt down real low (I could hear the poor kid’s neck muscles straining) and went over our house rules.
"Basically, there aren’t any."
What?
He’s NOT my kid and it IS a sleepover – he WILL eventually go home and, you know, tell his mother – and it’s NOT like I expected them to actually sleep, or anything.
But, he still seemed a little weary – I recognized the confused sort of…WUH-HUH?…way he shook his head, right away – so, I continued.
Oh, give me a break – as if a woman had any part in the Cowboy’s losing yesterday’s game – still, it’s funny how some people CAN think these sort of things up!
Yes, I am a HUGE fan of football – though, Garth (not his real name) will tell you that salivating over all the cute quarterbacks traipsing around the field, lately and being easily amused by the butt-slapping does NOT constitute as good sportsmanship – but, I have to tell you, last night’s game WAS one of the MOST difficult ones to watch.
I’ve been thinking, lately – a dangerous habit, I know – about how my husband Garth (not his real name) and I have started to downsize our family celebrations.
Not that they were HUGE, to begin with – if you have kids, then you know – but, our children enjoy spending time with both sets of their grandparents and have looked forward to their birthday dinners out, wherever they choose.
Christmastime, however, is a bear.
Besides the typical preparations that go along with celebrating a holiday supposedly meant as a time for family and friends – after finding out who is going to be around and wherever that will be, at the time – it always turns out to be a balancing act.
As you know, I am NOT very graceful.
This year, the grandparents are dealing with some pretty serious health and family issues.
Which ones?
Both; my parents and in-laws are going through some serious suckage at the moment and, not only does it totally SUCK that my brother’s unit is being deployed, AGAIN, it’s causing severe damage on my Christmas Mojo.
I’m just not feeling it, ya’ll.
Which, of course, means that I have been desperately trying to NOT have my children pick up on the fact that I, obviously, put the desperate into housewife…since, like, 1993.
"Are you coming on Sunday?"
Shhhh.
[balancing act in progress]
"No, actually, I’m taking the kids out and hoping to let your daughter try to, you know, catch up with herself."
I love Garth (not his real name) – bless his squishy heart – but, it’s times like this when I wonder.
"How long do you need?"
Will it ever be enough and, you know, WHEN?
"About three weeks should do it, thanks!"
Actually, all I need is to wrap, cook, bake and…um…shop…no, that’s not it…I finished yesterday with my SIL…uh…there’s something I’m forgetting, I know…give me a minute and perhaps it’ll come to me.
"Can we go to the Christmas House?"
I was trying to download some music into my SIL’s new Mp3 player and somehow was trying to pretend that I didn’t know, that she knows, I’m NOT technical, like that – bless her squishy heart – and, YES, we were having problems that were terribly technical-like.
"Tonight; are you kidding me?"
I was so NOT in the mood to go anywhere else.
"But, you promised we would take Aunt Waynicerthanmommy!"
[Wayne, for short]
"I dunno, go ask Daddy."
I mean, it can be tiring, being such a bad guy…mommy…whatever…and all!
"Sure, as soon as Mommy’s ready."
Bless his squishy heart.
"Besides, it’s not too far, Sis, and it’ll be worth the ride, you’ll see."
As you can see, the Griswold’s have NOTHING on this place.
According to this article, there are 8.4 miles of lights on the property and
79 Christmas trees outside the house; 16 Christmas trees adorn the
inside of the house and that the electricity bill is about $3,500 for the seven
weeks the lights are on.
"How did you guys ever find this place?"
Driving home from my parents house, I think, go figure.
"WICKED!"
Some may perhaps argue, that the use of so many brightly colored lights – not to mention, the energy used to fire them up – and the owner’s efforts at spreading holiday cheer isn’t very, you know, green.
"Can I have some money?!?!"
I kept staring up at all the pretty lights and tried not to add to my growing impatience with Mini-me, this past week.
"There is absolutely NOTHING you need to buy here, Sweetie."
She pointed at the box at the end of the walk – which asks for donations for St. Jude Children’s Hospital and the Children’s Diabetes Fund – and this message:
"It’s not a Christmas well – it’s a magical Christmas box. Drop in some
love and hope. Lets make the children well."
My eyes fogged up.
"No, I want to drop it in there!"
No, it’s not easy being happy – especially, when the world is surrounded in such misery – but, I didn’t have to dig very deep to find my Christmas mojo and all it took was simple drop in the well.
I mean, box.
Thank you, Mr. Steinke – the owner of the Christmas House – for interrupting your Christmas party, to come out and greet us, and wish total strangers well.
"We’re looking forward to playing Harmonies For Christmas!"
Not just for the cool CD – everyone got one for an $8.00 donation into the box – you’ve given me (and my family) more than you’ll ever know.
"I do it for my kids, your kids and making some people a little happier is what Christmas is all about; don’t ya’ think?"
You know, I guess, maybe you do.
Merry Christmas to all – especially, YOU my blogging friends – and to all a good night.
[shrugs shoulders]
Oh, just look at ALL the pretty lights!
[YAWN]
If anyone needs me, I’ll be upstairs counting my blessings – 4 of whom are probably STILL awake – praying for peace and hugging Garth (not his real name) bless his squishy heart!
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I am NOT a morning person and my husband is…well, let me just tell you…he’s like a fluffy little bird happily twittering about in the early morning sunshine – scary, I know – needless to say, we go to great lengths to stay out of each other’s way and try not to, you know, talk…too much.
"Coffee?"
He hands me a hot steaming mug filled with the sweet elixir of life, as I stumble off to the shower.
"Herumpfuh."
Then, feeds the animals. I mean, the pets. The kids are old enough to fend for themselves, thank you.
"Turkey, roast beef or peanut butter?"
Also, makes their lunches.
"Nope, uh-huh, I don’t think so and NO, because you just bought yesterday!"
And fields any (and all) of their questions – although, the children have not yet appreciated the fact that, in doing so, their father HAS saved them from encounters with the beast, that is their mother – bless his squishy heart.
By dinnertime, it’s a whole different story!
"Beer?"
So, he’s a morning person and I’m…well, let me just tell you…I’m like a night owl. All bug-eyed and barrel-chested, with nerves jumping and ready for bear.
"Himumpfuh"
Seriously, at the end of the day, the man is an absolute grump!
"Oh, no…look out!"
Especially, when I do something totally unexpected and scare the bees-juice out of him!
"WHAT!?!?!"
[eyes go wide]
"The…the…smiley fries!"
I grabbed his tie, pulled him closer and pointed toward the kitchen counter.
"They…are…ATTACKING!"
"They’re coming to get you, Daddy!"
[rolls eyes]
"Stop it, you’re being STUPID!"
"They’re coming for you, Daddy!"
[cracks a smile]
"Okay, now you’re JUST weird."
"They’re coming for YOU!"
[bites lower lip]
"Shhhh, the kids are watching!"
"Look, there comes one of them now!"
[frowning]
"Stop it, they’ll hear you!"
"Here he comes now…GAH…I’m getting OUTTA OF HERE!"
I was able to crack through that tough-Daddy shell of his and I ask you, how could he NOT smile!?!
"I…LOVE…yooooou!"
Honestly, with fries like these, what’s NOT to love?
"Now, where’s my beer?"
So, I guess what I’m saying is, contrary to popular opinion, opposites really DO attract – it’s what helps keep the spice in our marriage, anyways – unfortunately, I must have commanded a little too much of The Boy’s attention, for once.
"Daaaaaaady!"
Garth (not his real name) got up with him, last night – bless his squishy heart – because, The Boy very rarely calls out for, you know, me.
"Coming, Buddy!"
Go figure.
"Coffee?"
But, this time, it was ME who got up with the pets, made the lunches, etc…
"Himumpfuh."
So, you see, it all works out in the end.
"What’s for dinner, tonight?"
[giggle]
"Swedish meatballs!"
[eyes go wide]
"Oooooh, I can’t wait!"
What?
[shrugs shoulders]
Yes, there’s only 6 more sleeps until Christmas and it’s a stressful time for everyone.
"Momma, I don’t feel so…[gulp]…BLAAAAAH!"
Especially, when yet other one of your kids wakes up sick and pukes all over the breakfast table…AGAIN!
"Herumpfuh!"
What; you want fries with that?
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[Edited to add: Please remember to leave a comment on Bloggers Unite – if you haven’t already, won’t you consider visiting my post and Delurking for a cause, or for even a DORK, like me!?!?]
Submitted to:
Carnival of Family Life
Bloggers from around the world are performing acts of kindness and today, December 17th – with only 8 more sleeps until Christmas – I am honored to dedicate today’s blog post to telling you about Carol for A Cause and, hopefully, share a little of the spirit of giving, with you.
Yes, even YOU – yep, CAN so see you – way in the back, looking all shopped out and blogging in your pajamas!
This is the 3rd year that Marie from Mommy Community is hosting the fundraiser – it started on December 13th and ends on Christmas Day – as we listen to moms and their kids carol for this wonderful cause.
To listen to carols – click here.
You’ll be given an opportunity to leave a donation – all proceeds will be given to the Susan Komen Breast Cancer Foundation – and any amount you can donate will be greatly appreciated, I’m sure.
It’s easy to do good so please join me – won’t you? – because, nice really DOES matter and it IS a small act of kindness, after all!
As an added incentive – not to mention, perhaps saving you from yet another to-do, or two – I’m calling you out (yes, YOU) and ask that you consider leaving your name (or, NOT) and This Full House will donate $1.00 for each comment received on this post, to Carol for a Cause!
There, consider your good deed done for the day!
Because I am a major DORK and my name is NOT Dooce – seriously, the woman would be looking at LEAST a triple-digit donation – I’m leaving comments open until the end of the week and thank you, in advance, for your kindness.
Feel free to pass this along, share it with a blogging friend, or two and consider this OUR chance to show the
world that bloggers have heart online and off!
[wipes chocolate from mouth and puckers lips]
BRING IT!
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My children are in love with my SIL – you know, the one who DARED Garth (not his real name) to ask me out on a date – and I can’t say as I blame them. Wayne (not her real name, either) is a fun-loving and engaging adult that kids can totally relate to and…well…all the things I used to be, before children.
Seriously, I’ve got pictures to prove it – all decked out in gold lame, wickedly high hair and shoulder pads that would make even a line backer look, you know, pretty – and my 23-year-old niece (Wayne’s daughter) thought I was cool when she was…um…smaller.
"Yeah, but Aunt Wayne is really awesome and she DOES have a tattoo!"
Three of them, actually, and my favorite being the two lips on her rearend that reads kiss my…uh…well, just ask anyone in the family and they’ll tell you, my SIL is…um…well, there IS only one Wayne and it’s hard NOT to love her.
Even when she makes your 8-year-old son cry.
"What’s the matter, Buddy?"
Last weekend, The Boy asked to go home with Aunt Wayne – because, he likes her way more than me, remember? – and kept my SIL company on the way to a family Christmas party, way up in North Jersey.
"I have [sniff-sniff] something [snort-snort] to tell you."
My husband’s cousin lives about a little over an hours drive away – way up in Sopranos Land – and The Boy had a great time spending some private time with Aunt Wayne and rocking out to Charlie Daniels.
At least, that’s what my SIL told me.
"I did [sniff] something [snort] really, really bad in Aunt Wayne’s car!"
Uh-oh, judging that we ARE talking about my SIL and seeing as I’ve, you know, driven with her before, The Boy’s latest admission of bad behavior could range anywhere from flipping off an inconsiderate driver, to being allowed to say a word on the no-no list.
"I said a curse!"
See, I know.
"I’M SOOOOO SORRY!"
To tell you the truth, I was shocked and NOT by his actually saying a curse word – Holy Hannah Montana, I am his mother – but, The Boy buried his face into the crook of his arm and started to…um…well, let’s see. Okay, if I were to try to string together a couple of words and describe an accurate account of exactly how badly the kid must have felt, a full blown snot blowing brain numbing bawl, comes to mind.
"Come on, Buddy, it’s NOT that bad."
Seriously, I could think of worse things (shuddup, Wayne!) and we ARE talking about a woman, with a picture of an angel, fighting the devil, and the words, "The devil won!" tattooed on her shoulder.
"It’s not like you’re going around saying it in school, or anything, RIGHT?"
Judging by the vigorous way The Boy nearly shook his head right off his shoulders, h-e-double-hockey sticks, NO!
"So, why don’t you just tell me what you said."
It took him a couple of seconds and – only after he blew his nose, twice – I braced myself for the worst, as The Boy finally shouted out.
"Son of a Bitch!"
[eyes go wide]
"Oh, is THAT all…I mean…really?"
Honestly – if you have kids, then you know – The Boy hears filthier stuff walking around in the grocery store and it COULD have been worse.
"Well, now you told me and…"
He started BAWLING, again.
"What?"
Sniff-sniff.
"Aunt Wayne said that you wouldn’t be mad."
More bawling.
"Well, I’m still glad that you told me."
Cheese and rice, I couldn’t believe that The Boy was so upset – I mean, really, it’s NOT that bad – but, I was secretly taking pleasure in the idea that he seemed really worried what, you know, I thought about the whole thing.
"But, she told me that, she would NOT tell you, and she did NOT want you, to make me, NOT go with, you know, Aunt Wayne, anymore, unless, I wanted to."
Now, I ask you, how am I supposed to react and, seriously, does he really think that I would ever do that?
"That’s when I said, HELL NO!"
Needless to say, he’s NOT in trouble and neither is my SIL.
[eyes go wide]
Because, Wayne mom-napped me to Starbucks, last night, and we laughed a week’s worth of suckage off when I told her.
"No more Charlie Daniels, evuh!"
The Hubs, however, not so much.
"So, what’s the matter with you?"
Seriously, Garth (not his real name) WAS mad as a dog.
"I tried to get on the [censored] Internet, and you’re right, it’s STILL not {censored] working right, so I told [censored] Verizon that they can [censored] KISS MY ASS!"
Mini-me started with the croup and was STILL awake.
"Son-of-a-Bitch, now how am I supposed to get my letter to Santa?"
And, apparently, little ears really ARE listening.
[sound of crickets]
Well, never mind, she’s STILL young, there’s time and a whole shopping list of mad parenting skillz to rely on.
[shrugs shoulders]
Besides – judging by my total DISDAIN I feel for Verizon, at the moment – I’m STILL working on an answer for that one.
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I love my car – a Kia Sedona in a lovely shade of suburban sprawl – and spend a whole lot of my time, sitting in it.
Seriously.
Especially, this week, driving back-and-forth, while visiting my aunt in the hospital – thank you for your prayers and good wishes, they worked! – while she recuperates from diabetic shock, kidney failure, something some other hospital screwed up in her stomach, last time, oh…and…A HEART ATTACK!?!?
Man, the woman can fight!
Needless to say, the family has a long road ahead of them – the doctors have given Theresa about a year – and traveling down the shore (or, up the parkway) got me thinking. A dangerous habit to get into, I know, for someone so, you know, dorky.
What is up with all the rudeness?
I mean, thank goodness Garth (not his real name) was driving, the other night – man, it was foggy – I had BOTH my hands free to let people know just how I felt.
Especially, you – WOMAN, driving the white SUV close enough for me to read your lips – kiss my rear fender!
[sits on hands for fear of poking an eye out]
Let me tell you, it’s a battle and I’m seriously reconsidering my position on the alarming rash of Hummers I’ve seen riding around our quiet little county, lately, and perhaps painting Bertha (she’s my car) a lovely shade of suburban assault!
What?
Why, yes, I’ve always named my cars – it empowers me to have another female on my side and I also believe it improves my driving skills exponentially, okay – and, honestly, would you mess with a woman named Bertha?
[shrugs shoulders]
Needless to say, keeping up with our crazy schedule, AND one of the kids getting sick, AND the dog eating the last of the cinnamon buns – also taking into consideration, the ridiculous amount of time I’ve spent, driving and/or sitting on my hands, this week – my nerves are shot.
So, Garth (not his real name) sent me an email, this morning – one of the ONLY times we get to, you know, talk to each other, sort of – and I thought I’d share it with my online friends, and perhaps offer a better understanding of why I have a problem using the moniker "stay-at-home" mom – an oxymoron, at best – when I spend most of my time, on the road, with Bertha.
[blows bangs out of eyes and backs it down a notch]
Anyway, I guess you have to live in New Jersey – especially, the central, or northern sections closer to NYC – to know.
But, this is funny, even if you don’t.
How To Survive a Day in New Jersey
1. First, you must learn how to pronounce Newark….It is New-erk, not New-ark.
(Actually, it’s pronounced ‘NORK’.)
2. The morning rush hour is from 5:00 a.m. to noon. The evening rush
hour is from noon to 7:00 p.m. Friday’s rush hour starts on Thursday
morning.
3. The minimum acceptable speed on the turnpike is 85 mph. On the
Garden State Parkway it’s 105 or 110. Anything less is considered
‘Wussy.’
4. Forget the traffic rules you learned elsewhere. Jersey has its own
version of traffic rules. For example, cars/trucks with the loudest
muffler go first at a four-way stop; the trucks with the biggest tires
go second. However, in Monmouth County , SUV-driving, cell
phone-talking moms ALWAYS have the right of way.
5. If you actually stop at a yellow light, you will be rear ended,
cussed out, and possibly shot.
6. Never honk at anyone. EVER. It’s another offense that can get you shot.
7. Road construction is permanent and continuous in all of Jersey .
Detour barrels are moved around for your entertainment during the
middle of the night to make the next day’s driving a bit "more
exciting".
8. Watch carefully for road hazards such as drunks, skunks, dogs,
cats, barrels, cones, celebs, rubber-neckers, shredded tires,
cell-phoners, deer and other road kill and other drivers trying to, you know, hit ’em.
9. Mapquest does not work here — none of the roads are where they say
they are or go where they say they do. And all the Turnpike EZ pass
lanes are moved each night once again to make your ride more exciting.
10. If someone actually has their turn signal on, wave them to the
shoulder immediately to let them know it has been ‘accidentally
activated.’
11. If you are in the left lane and only driving 70 in a 55-65mph
zone, you are considered a road hazard and will be ‘flipped off’
accordingly. If you return the flip, you’ll be shot.
12. Do not try to estimate travel time — just leave Monday afternoon
for Tuesday appointments, by noon Thursday for Friday, and right after
church on Sunday for anything on Monday morning.
There, I feel MUCH better – now that YOU know, I love you – don’t you?
Have a great weekend!
If anyone needs me, I’ll be at the high school volunteering in the kitchen for the kids’ soccer banquet.
[shudder]
I’m scheduled in to be there at 7:30 a.m. SHARP – yes, I am one of THOSE moms, too – but, it’s close enough to walk and I do NOT have to drive!
Stay-at-home mom, my rear bumper!
If you’re wondering just how MANY ways in which someone can screw up their blog – the skies the limit. I hope this domain mapping stuff works, soon!
[Edited to add: HOLY CRAP, I did it – I mean, I’m just surprised that nothing broke and that THIS TIME it…you know…really works!]
"Flying to the west coast," was all my email said, as I was
hoping for a little company…you know…a familiar face in a sea of
happy-go-lucky-park-hopping strangers…and my dear friend and fellow
mommyblogger, Donna (a.k.a. Socal Mom) rose to the occasion!
We had ourselves a virtual Mommy Bloggers’ Holiday, for real (she tells the story, so well) and we tore that park up with laughter and squeals of…OMG, how fast does this ride go…not to mention, my kids are totally going to hate me for this…I had a BLAST!
Donna took a picture of me – yes, we wear a lot of black…in Jersey
– and I do NOT believe I’ve ever looked so…sunny…or, this
relaxed…in a long time!
But, wait until you hear what happened, after…Donna!
I got up bright and early the next morning – okay, it was cloudy and
I thought it never rained in southern California – and nearly hugged my
driver at the front of the hotel.
"You mean, you actually bought me a bottle of water?"
I swear, you California people are way too healthy – they actually
had fresh fruit and flavored water kiosks – and I only found one stand
selling churros, in Disneyland!?!?
Guess what snack I picked?
"Ooooh, candy!"
The driver told me that there was more water in the car, if I
wanted…but, I was too busy sucking on peppermint to answer…or, care.
"We’re you headed?"
I told him I was headed home to the east coast…via, Houston.
"Too bad I’ve got about 15 minutes to catch my next plane, I would have called my friend, Jenn, and I bet we coulda raised a little h…e…double hockey sticks, yes?"
He didn’t know; he wasn’t quite sure what a mommyblogger was and he’d never been to Houston!
"That’s okay, maybe next time!"
Because, I sat next to the two most…BORING…men, in the world – they were
from Texas – and I couldn’t wait to get myself on the next plane and
home to my babies. I missed each of them – yes, I even had thoughts of
kissing Garth (not his real name) heavily, on my mind – and counted the
hours, eagerly.
"Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking."
Uh-oh.
"We’ve been circling Newark for the passed 30 minutes and are running low on fuel…"
D’OH!
"…so, we’ve been diverted to Dulles, to refuel…"
Phew!
"…and, hopefully, we’ll be good to land in Newark…um…shortly."
We were scheduled to land at 10:10 p.m. and it was already 11:00
p.m. – being on a plane since noon – the day had turned way too long,
already. No matter. I was having a good time.
"So, what do you think was the best Disney movie, EVER!?!?"
Personally, the kids and I still enjoy watching Toy Story and absolutely loved The Incredibles!
"Uh, ladies and gentlemen…"
Now what?
"…we seem to be having an experience."
Boy, did we have fun with that one!
"What do you think he really means, by experience?"
Being way in the back of the plane – sitting in the last row – it was hard to say.
"One of our passengers is having a moment…"
Oh, okay.
"…and we’re waiting for the authorities…"
Riiiiight.
"…to escort him OFF the plane."
Well, then good.
"Look, there’s an ambulance!"
We all crane our necks and ignore the pleas of the flight attendants
– as if, we were NOT on the verge of a riot, already – to get a good
look.
"OMG…there he is…"
And I couldn’t believe that I actually squealed, with delight.
"…and I think he’s NAKED!"
Yep, like a newborn baby…only bigger…and balder…and…well, the rest I’m really trying hard…to forget.
"He’s letting himself into the ambulance…"
As calm as can be, thank you very much.
"…and he’s closing the doors!"
Apparently, Mr. Phys-co-in-first-class wasn’t very happy about being
delayed, either, and felt it necessary to get naked in Dulles!
"Man, that was so worth the divert!"
Me, not so much – how we laughed, and laughed – and we were still giggling, even after landing about 1:30 a.m.
"OMG…you’re still here!?!?"
The driver was standing there – all wide-eyed and what the hey – and this time, I hugged him!
"So, where you headed?"
What, no candy?
"Well, figuring we’re getting home at about 3:00 a.m…straight into my husbands arms and then right to bed!"
[raises eyebrows]
"I mean, I’ve got two soccer games, this morning…sheesh!"
Though, it was worth it – both Mini-me and The Boy scored a goal –
it was a lovely mommybloggers’ holiday and what happened in
Dulles…well, consider it a perk.
"Momma…I feel sick…BELCH…BLAAAH!"
Doncha wish you had a life, like me!?!
