This Full House Archive

Category: Who’s Parenting Who?

Marrying the Man of My Dreams…NOT!

The Pocono Mountains, August 1963

Next week, my husband Garth (not his real name) and I will be celebrating our 20th wedding anniversary.

Married. 20 years. To each other.

Inconceivable, considering I've only just turned 29, again (ahem!) but, how did we get here?

"Look, we found a box of old photos!"

Because, I've never been really very good at finishing what I start (cough!) and 2 out of 4 of their baby books are actually, you know, finished.

"Who's that?"

My dad. My mom. My grandmother. They ALL looked so young. I managed to hold onto it (barely) but, couldn't stop my hands from shaking when I remembered who must have taken the picture.

"Why does Papa look so sad?"

My grandmother was married to a very (and I mean VERY) abusive man (in the worse sense of the word, really) so, I can IMAGINE what my father was thinking at that very moment.

"I think he was maybe just nervous."

With good reason. My father had a tumultuous relationship with HIS father-in-law (which, happened to be on a good day) and, well, the decision to move in with his in-laws must NOT have been an easy one, either.

"Was she married?"

Growing up, in that house, however, was MUCH worse.

"Who?"

Still, ALL parents fight…right?

"Your grandmother."

Especially, with their in-laws…no?

"She was married, but then she got divorced."

Granted, I don't remember my friends ever talking about the police being called out to their grandparents' houses.

"For how long?"

Not as often as they visited mine, I mean.

"How long, what?"

Then, there was silence.

"How long was she married?"

Days and days without talking to each other.

"40 years, I think."

Doesn't matter. After a while, it all becomes a BIG blur anyway and, well, I just never dreamed it could be, or would be…any different…for me.

"She was married twice as long as you and daddy!?!?"

20 years. Married. To each other.

"Are you going to do something special for your anniversary?"

Inconceivable, indeed.

"Yeah, we're gonna stay married!"

Frankly, the man of MY dreams was WAY different.

"That's NOT funny, mom!"

Thank you, Garth (not his real name) for NOT being that man!!!

"Bet daddy would think it was funny."

I mean, he IS married to me, you know?

© 2010 This
Full House Blog – All Rights Reserved.

August 20, 2010
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…)

August 16, 2010
High Tides and Green Skies, Jersey Forever?

Mount Mitchill Scenic Overlook County Park, Atlantic Highlands, NJ

Actually, it was grayish, rainy and a bit chilly, yesterday.. PERFECT weather for some late summertime fun…here, in Jersey, anyway.

A lot of folks seem to like visiting New Jersey (on purpose) especially, our neck of the Jersey shore and I'm okay with that (mostly) I mean, if it weren't for the Bennies (i.e. people who visit here, only in the summertime) we'd probably have to pay A LOT MORE money to get on our beaches and MTV would NOT currently hold the #1 google rank it does, you know, today…DAMNIT!

Why so sensitive?

(more…)

August 13, 2010
Who’s Been Sitting in My Chair and Why is My Kid Calling it Mom?

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…)

August 11, 2010
Extreme Home-Do-Over!

I still remember that fateful day, when my husband Garth (not his real name) and I nervously sat down at the conference table, distracting the lawyer long enough to hand us each styrofoam cups of stale coffee and, between the 3 of us, was the only one able to hold a pen steady enough to sign the papers.

"I think I'm gonna throw up!"

I was a few weeks pregnant with our first daughter (commuting, while under the influence of gestation, sucks wet poodle, btw!) and, well, WE WERE BUYING OUR FIRST HOUSE!

"You're young, yet, there's still time."

The lawyer, who seemed very well-versed in the matter, insisted that investing in a starter home was the way to go and that our timing could NOT have been better.

"As long as you move before the kid starts kindergarten!"

17 years, 4 kids, 3 cats, 2 refinances and 1 doofus-dawg, later (give or take a couple of goldfish) both my husband and I have FINALLY accepted the fact that we are, you know, totally screwed.

"Wow, it's a lot bigger than I thought!"

If I had a dollar for each time a repairman has said that to me, well, I'd be able to park my car in the garage, by now.

"We get that, a lot."

Not to mention, folks who are surprised to find that our house, you know, looks A LOT different…on the inside.

"Doing some work, I see."

It's not like we have this thing for
dry wall (although, after a while, you DO sorta get used it) but, after
17 years, 4 kids, 3 cats, etc., etc., other stuff has taken priority
(like, you know, food) and, well, there's ALWAYS something, right?

"How long have you been renovating?"

This particular repairman, however, seemed to be genuinely interested.

"Let's see, um, about 17 years."

The poor guy stopped laughing as soon as he realized that I was, you know, serious.

"Uh-huh, so, okay, I'm done here, buh-bye."

Granted, it's not the smallest house on the block (my 103 year-old next door neighbor has owned that title for, well, over 100 years, now) and, with a few of gallons of paint (give or take a couple of barrels) or, a VERY LARGE construction crew, looking for some pro bono work, who knows?

"Um, did you back-flush the pool, today?"

Because, you see, these days, I am the Queen of Denial AND Supreme Back-flusher!

"Why?"

Then, I remembered….that I forgot…to turn the shut-off valve, you know, back on.

"You burned up the motor!"

Long story, short (you're welcome!) that same day, we also ended up taking my car into the shop (it was either that, or never be able to make a left turn, ever again!) and that little bit of money I just got paid (because, you know, I do work, sometimes) uh-huh, I'm sending one of the Pep Boys on a lovely vacation…this summer.

"You owe your father a cup of coffee."

Apparently, my dad made a big stink about paying for the new pump in the pool store and, well, I owed the man a piece of cake AND dinner for the next 2 weeks, too.

"Why are you ALL wet?"

Apparently, the pump is a whole LOT stronger than our old one, the pressure split the out-take hose and being doused with chlorinated water, while under the influence of coffee (and cake) makes you do this:

What? Melisa thought it was funny when I told her this same EXACT story on Monday (STILL don't have my car, sucks donkey balls, btw!) or, maybe she was just humoring me, either way.

[snort]

Still, it's OUR home, the kids seem to like it and I wouldn't trade this house, or the love I felt for my husband, at that particular moment, for all the philanthropically-inclined contractors in the world.

[wipes eyes]

Okay, maybe Ty Pennington (relax, my husband already knows and he's okay with it) or one of the HGTV Dream Homes (I've been trying to win, since 2001, DAMMIT!) but, let's not open that OLD wound, okay?

© 2010 This
Full House Blog – All Rights Reserved.

July 30, 2010
Wordless Wednesday: Bowling is for Tutus

I love how Hopey's bowling ball matches her tutu…perfectly!

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

© 2010 This
Full House Blog – All Rights Reserved.

July 21, 2010
D’oh, There’s a Deer in My Garden, Dear Maria, Dear Maria!

This is my paternal great-grandmother, Maria, in Hungary. My father spent many childhood summers, giving up his "city boy ways," living the "simple country life," with Maria (his mother had him late in life and, apparently, he was a handful!) and, according to my father, it was anything and everything…but, simple!

Still, as tough as Maria's life was, my father insists that she was the sweetest, kindest, most gentlest person on earth.

Unlike, her great-granddaughter (that would be me!) who is about ready to snare her some Bambi!

Exhibit A: Deer tracks (post-sprinkler) this morning.

No, I don't want to hurt Bambi (much) but, gardening is HARD work and, all of a sudden, after 17 years of fighting with aphids, hornworms and garden slugs (oh my!) NOW it seems like we've got deer!

Exhibit B: Hopey's prized-cabbage (she was growing to win a $1000 scholarship) beheaded!

Not just any deer (mind you) but, ravenous-militant-vegetable-swiping-giant-moose-of-an-animal that carries away an entire head of cabbage!?!?

Exhibit C: Tops of tomato plants chewed!

I went out to pick some tomatoes a few weekends ago and…OMG…where have ALL of my tomatoes gone?

Exhibit D: What was my parsley!

I know…so, we've got deer…no BIG deal, right?

Exhibit E: WTH is it?

All I kept thinking was…this is MY garden (DAGNABIT!) and WWMD (what would Maria do?) no question about it — I HAVE TO DEFEND IT! So, Garth (not his real name) installed this sweet little motion detector smack dab in the middle of my Concord grape vine!

Just like Maria's (see picture at top of post) minus the motion detector, I mean.

Exhibit F: New growth!!!

Yes, Maria is probably ROIHGL (rolling over in her grave laughing) bless her squishy little heart!

Exhibit G: Aaaand, we have tomato flowers!

But, when in Jersey…you know…and, combined with my new bontanically-based insecticidal soap (email me and I'll let you know which) it seems to be working.

Exhibit H: The vegetable bed that lived

Oh, and no, we are NOT crucifying anyone – that's just the clothes line that Garth (not his real name) rigged up by the pool, so that the kids can hang up their wet towels, which, unfortunately, they do NOT use…DAGNABIT!

[sound of crickets chirping]

Morale of the Story: Deer do NOT like eggplant.

Stupid urban/suburban sprawl!

© 2010 This Full House Blog – All Rights Reserved.

July 19, 2010
Love is Hopeful

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

July 8, 2010
Independence is a Relative Term

I was 12 years-old when we celebrated the Bi-centennial and, sadly, the only thing I remember from the day is getting these really cool pair of socks.

Oh…look…my first crushes…mostly him (on the left) it's like 1976, all over again!

No, these are NOT the socks (can't find a picture, anywhere) nor, do they have anything to do with Independence Day (so what?) but, I thought I'd share another favorite memory from my preteen years (50 extra points for the 1st person who can ADMIT to being able to name that t.v. show!) as, my parents worked (a lot) soooo, my twin brother and I stayed home and watched A LOT of television.

By ourselves.

Today, my kids also enjoy watching television (perhaps a little more than they should, I know) but, summer vacation is waaaay different (sounding really old, now, I know) from when I was their age.

"Why don't you guys go outside?"

Tell me it's like this at your house, too.

"But, it's toooooo hot!"

Because, I swear, my brother and I would have sold each other, to have a swimming pool…in our backyard.

"Will you come with us?"

Then again, there isn't much that my kids do…by themselves.

Or, without my parents.

"You guys coming over on Sunday, right?"

Their dependency on seeing the kids…me…my brother…every week…can be very trying, at times…especially, on Sundays.

"Absolutely, we will be there!"

Still, seeing my brother, watching him play with my kids, listening to his goofy laugh and then his wife yell at him for acting like, well, a 12 year-old [snicker] and getting the chance to spend the whole day…together…is like a breath of fresh air…really.

And then my father WILL start to cry.

"OMG…what's the matter?"

My mother will shake her head, bite her lower lip and then eventually tears would come to her eyes, too.

"No, really…Apu…what's bothering you?"

He will wipe his eyes and slowly look around the room.

"Nothing…seeing you and your brother together…I'm just happy…and that's all I ever wanted!"

My brother will suggest that we watch Independence Day, for the buh-zillion-th time (my son will be the 1st to agree) and then my mom will, once again, bring up the fact that Hope looks SO MUCH like I did, at her age.

And it will take a while for their words to sink in; eventually, the goosebumps will
hit, along with the realization that maybe my parents are NOT as dependent,
as I thought (go figure!) but, in their eyes, merely exercising their right as grandparents.

Or, getting another chance to celebrate deep pride in their adopted country…through their children's eyes…on Independence Day.

"I got an "A" on my report on Hungary…Papa!"

Aaaand, I can't think of any place I'd rather be, or anything else I'd rather be doing, at the moment.

Other than remembering the fun we had, the last time we visited with my brother and he gave the S.W.A.T. helmet to Hopey, on Memorial Day!

"You know, your mother spent a summer in Hungary AND she needed A LOT of band aids…too!"

Aaaaand, it's like 1976, all over again…sort of.

© 2010 This Full House Blog

July 2, 2010
Frankie Says, RELAX!

What, you don't have one of these?

In my next life, I want to be a cat. Not MY cat, because, well, he's already used up 3 of his lives and, well, you know.

Aaaaanyway.

The point I'm trying to make (and yes, I'll get there, eventually) why do cats always seem so gosh-darned relaxed?

[sound of crickets chirping]

Unless, there's a dog around. Or, kids. Oh, and something bigger that can, you know, eat it, well, that would be REAL bad.

Aaaaanyway.

All it takes is one look at MY cat, all curled up on a chair, or snuggled safely into one of about a thousand baskets scattered throughout the house (what, I've got O.C.C.C. – obsessive compulsive collector of crap, okay?)

Aaaaanyway.

What was I saying? Oh, yeah (I'm old, shuddup!) just one look into his big greenish eyes (go ahead, I'll wait) don't they just SCREAM what IS your problem, right?

[stupid crickets]

Aaaanyway.

I guess what I'm saying (aaaand, if you're still here, reading, there IS a special place in heaven for those who humor debilitatingly dork-ish folks, like me, I swear!) just look at him, go ahead, I'll wait.

[shrugs]

See, NOT everything in nature HAS to have a function, all the time…soooo, why can't WE (i.e. human, more specifically, parental unit types) learn to relax…for JUST 5 blessed minutes…right?

[the sound of many doors, SLAMMING]

Aaaaanyway.

Morale of the Story: Consider this YOUR ticket (to relax, der!) go find a chair, or basket somewhere to curl up in and, you know, just tell EVERYONE:

"I am grooming my inner-cat!"

That SHOULD get them hauling tail, out of the room, pretty quick, and gain you AT LEAST 5 minutes of peace and quiet.

In theory, anyway.

[SLAM!]

In the meantime…I know there is NO such word as "dibilitatingly" AND his name is NOT Frankie, but I'm old and it's my blog, so…JUST RELAX..and thankyouverymuch…for humoring me.

[cue choir of angels]

Your confirmation is in the mail and you're welcome!

© 2010 This Full House Blog

June 30, 2010