This Full House Archive

Category: Who’s Parenting Who?

Sundays in My City:
Beware the Icicle Slayer

I know, I know, enough with the snowmaggedon posts, already. Still. This winter has made for some really beautiful pictures — here in Jersey, anyway — like these ice swans captured by my 15 yo, in our backyard, the other day. She's majoring in photo journalism and, well, the girl has a great eye, no?

Oh, and the icicles? They are EPIC this year. I'm so glad I took this shot outside our den/guestroom/laundryroom/playroom…before they ALL melted.

Or, before my oldest (a.k.a. Holly the Icicle Slayer) got her hands on them and, truth be told, having caught a glimpse of her darkside, you'd never know that, IRL, she's really an Italian literature and arts major, right?

I was a little frightened for the wreath's safety.

So, I thought it was probably a good idea to, you know, step back and put down my brand new camera, frigalicious as it is (yes, it's a word!) not to mention, put away the rest of the Christmas decorations…I know…shuddup!

But, not before grabbing this shot, as she claimed her trophy and, well, thank goodness her little brother wasn't home to, you know, turn it into a weapon and pretend it was an ice saber, or something.

Before it melted, of course — Happy Sunday!!!

To see other scenes from around the world, check out Unknown Mami’s Sundays in My City.

Oh, and feel free to clean off a chair, sit down and visit my photo journal or my Flickr photostream.

© 2003 – 2011 This Full House

February 6, 2011
Parenting Tip #13,100,785:
Anything Boys Can Do, Girls Can Do Better!
Unless You Live in Our House
Or, Happen to Play the Clarinet!

Hey, look, finally, a post that has absolutely NOTHING to do with the weather (anyone mentions anything about snow and the ground hog gets it!) however, I will say that we're each getting a little sick (and tired) of all the closeness, around here.

"Girls go to college to get more knowledge!"

Especially, my two youngest children.

"But, boys go to Jupiter to get more stupider!"

See what I mean?

"That's not right!"

Thank goodness, the two oldest girls have my back.

"You mean, more stupid!"

Sort of.

"Keep it up and ya'll going to Jupiter!"

Long story, short (you're welcome) at our house, the war of girls vs. boys has been going on for quite some time now and, well, if you ask me, it really doesn't matter (whether you're a boy, or girl, I mean) they're ALL driving me nucking futs, too!

"Smart Alec said that playing the clarinet is stupid!"

Et tu minivan?

"What did you say?"

Hope's first choice was to play the flute [cringe] but, I told her maybe the clarinet would be, you know, way cooler, considering there really aren't enough female clarinet players in the world.

"I told him maybe he should think about playing the clarinet, then!"

[snort!]

"How many clarinets does it take to change a light bulb?"

Either way, it just occurred to me, that I forgot to ask what instrument Smart Alec plays.

"Clarinets don't have light bulbs, STUPID!"

Then again, I guess it really doesn't matter.

"Hey, you just passed our house!"

Lalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalala.

"Where are you taking us, Mom?

[blows bangs out of eyes]

"Next stop….JUPITER!"

Stupid ground hog!

© 2003 – 2011 This Full House

February 2, 2011
The House Next Door

It's sad, really. A lonely, frozen, barren, wasteland comes to mind. Gloom crashes in like icy waves, extinguising all of the warmth from my body, culminating in a moment of complete and unavoidable despair.

The sadness is overwhelming.

It clouds the eyes and turns my thoughts toward darker days.

This house is old. The woman living inside is even older. At 104, she has outlived her children and even some of her grandchildren. What have her eyes seen? How many times has her heart been broken and…yet…it continues to beat?

It's amazing, really. A sturdy, unsinkable ship comes to mind; made with strong hands and bound by family ties that, although broken long ago, weathered yet another storm.

Yes, this house is old. The woman living inside is even older. It is her home.

Grace lives there and her next door neighbor's name is Hope.

© 2003 – 2011 This Full House

January 29, 2011
Cloudy With a Chance of Snowballs

I love snow [ducks to avoid flying snowballs] working up enough courage to actually get behind the wheel of a car and driving in it, not so much!

I got into my first and only car wreck [knocking on wood until knuckles bleed] while driving home from work…in a snow storm.

It was bad; my body hurts just thinking about it.

I was only 20 and, well, let's just say I've spent the last 20-something years, doing my best to avoid, having to drive…in the snow.

Until, I had children.

My kids don't like to walk, anywhere (I think it's a law, or something) partly, because we live in an area where the ratio between accessible sidewalks to the actual number of cars on the road is equal to the proportion of the accumulated snowfall.

In other words, no one shovels their gosh-darned sidewalks, anymore, DAGNABIT!

"Can I stay home, today?"

[frown]

"Yes…WAIT…I mean, NO!"

I fear for my middle girl. She attends a specialized high school 25 miles away from home and, well, her bus travels some of the craziest roads known to the Jersey Shore as…THE PARKWAY!!!

[shiver]

"Sorry, kiddo, but you have finals, today!"

Aaaaand, she was out sick, yesterday, already, DAGNABIT!!!

"Can you pick me up from school, today?"

[bites lower lip]

"Um, NO!"

What? This particular kid also takes a bus and, well, who am I to deny someone a chance to do their job, right?

"Can you pick me up from school, today?"

[heavy sigh]

"Uh, NO!"

What? Aaaand, this kid can literally spit from our house to the school, we live THAT close.

"Now, remember, if the snow gets really, really bad, mommy's gonna park the car down the street and we're gonna walk home, okay?"

[eyes go wide]

"ALL THE WAY FROM SCHOOL?!?"

YES! Because, there's a wooded path leading from this kid's school, to the adjacent neighborhood and, well, I fear THAT parking lot, the most!

"It'll be an adventure!"

Besides, we're supposed to get like, 10 inches and I've abandoned cars, for less.

"…so, our area can expect a light dusting to no accumulation…until, tonight."

PHEW!

[looks out the window]

BALLS!

Guess what? The weather dudes were wrong (GASP!) I spun out in the CVS parking lot getting milk on the way home from school this morning and, well, it looks like my kids are walking!

[pulls up hoodie and blows bangs out of eyes]

If anyone needs me, I'll be outside, cleaning off my car (for the eleventy-hundrendth time) and pretending like I'm a REAL good stay-at-home mother.

Stupid Snowmaggedon!!!

© 2003 – 2011 This Full House

January 26, 2011
Raising a Manchild (Kind Of, Sort Of!)

12 years ago, on the 23rd of January, at 2:05 p.m., I gave birth to a son and, although your sisters could not wait to meet their new baby brother, I was terrified at the thought of raising a manchild.

You see, like your sisters, I'm a girl (AM SO!)

I know how girls think (sort of!) although, I'm not saying that they are any better (or, worse!) it's just that, I don't know, boys are different.

Then, just as we started getting used to each other (kind of!) you became a big brother and a real good one, too…by the way…even when you would find your G.I. Joes and Power Rangers, left accidentally on purpose, half-naked in the bath tub, surrounded by bald-headed Barbie dolls.

Girls are weird, I know (they get that from daddy) still, now that you are 12, going on boyteen, I can't help but wonder…OMG!…how in the heck did we get here?

Where DID the time go…can't we hold onto your childhood, just a little while longer?

Then again, according to your baby sister, you ARE a man (how awesome is that card, right?) and she's absolutely right…you're awesome…next I'll tell you something you don't know.

Yesterday, at 2:05 p.m., you made a wish and, although I can't promise it will come true or, that growing up will get any easier (dagnabit!) I will always be your mom, no matter what (yes, REALLY!) aaaaand, you will probably be way taller than me, too…DAGNABIT!

Happy Birthday, I love you, BIG GUY!

© 2003 – 2011 This Full House

January 24, 2011
Do I Love Him?

I haven't slept with Garth (not his real name) since, Christmas!

[eyes go wide]

In the same bed, I mean, SHEESH!

We've been married for 20 years and, well, as Doofus is very willing to demonstrate (DAMMIT!) the couch can be pretty comfy, too.

Still, our kids are getting older, we're feeling old-ish (more and more, everyday, dammit!) I guess life is just rubbing our nerves raw, at the moment.

Okay, you can cut the tension with a cotton ball and the hardest part is, you know, pretending like our kids don't notice.

Oh, we're fine — just in case you were wondering or someone closely related to us happens to wander in here and read into stuff he, or she really shouldn't.

SLAM!

It's just real hard to wake Garth (not his real name) once he sits down, poor guy, so it's just easier to let him sleep with the dawg, while I watch Fiddler on the Roof, for the bazillionth time, right?

[the sound of crickets chirping]

Still, it also raises one very important question:

(Garth NHRN)
Do you love me?

(Me)
Do I what?

(Garth NHRN)
Do you love me?

(Me)
Do I love you?
With kids in 4 different schools
And this cruddy flu going around
You're upset, you're worn out
Go inside, go lie down!
Maybe it's indigestion

(Garth NHRN)
"I'm asking you a question…"

Do you love me?

(Me)
I'm a dork!

(Garth NHRN)
"I know…"

But do you love me?

(Me)
Do I love you?
For twenty years I've washed your clothes
Cooked your meals, cleaned your house

PAUSE: Okay, so Garth (not his real name) does ALL of this too (maybe, even more) but, that's NOT the point, here! Continue:

Given you children, milked the cow (no, not really, SHEESH!)
After twenty years, why talk about love right now?

(Garth NHRN)
The first time I met you
I didn't think we'd last the day
I was scared

(Me)
I was shy

WAIT A MINUTE: Okay, for those of you who knew me B.C. (before children) you can all STOP laughing now! Continue:

(Garth NHRN)
I was nervous

(Me)
Truth be told, so was I

(Garth NHRN)
And now I'm asking,
Do you love me?

(Me)
But, I'm such a dork!

(Garth NHRN)
"I know…"
But do you love me?

(Me)
Do I love him?
For twenty years I've lived with him
Fought him, laughed with him
After twenty years the couch is his
If that's not love, I ask you, WHAT IS?

(Garth NHRN)
Then you love me?

(Me)
I suppose I do

(Garth NHRN)
And I suppose I love you, too

No, it doesn't change a thing, but even so, after twenty years, it's sorta nice to know — not to mention, hear myself say it out loud, pretend my blog is a stage and that I sing REAL good, too!

Move over, Doofus (the dawg, I mean!)

© 2003 – 2011 ThisFullHouse.com

January 21, 2011
For the Love of Bubbles

Love is waking your laptop to find silly little cabin-fever-induced webcam photos of your teens…all 350 of them (cabin-fever-induced webcam photos, NOT teens, I mean!)

[shiver]

Aaaaand, there's more snow on the way?!?

FLOB! Seems Mother Nature is in desperate need of a serious attitude adjustment, too…or, a new laptop…whatevs.

Happy Love Thursday, everyone!

© 2003 – 2011 ThisFullHouse.com

January 20, 2011
I Whip My Lens Back and Forth

My husband, Garth (not his real name) thinks I'm nuts (I know, act surprised anyway okay?)

Aaaanyway, as I was showing a family friend my our new BESTEST, AWESOMEST, I CAN'T BELIEVE IT'S NOT BUTTER, not to mention, ABSOLUTELY FRIGALICIOUS camera…

[takes breath]

…he calls me out.

"She takes the weirdest pictures."

I was crushed.

So, I grabbed the camera (ever so gently) and began to scroll through the memory card.

We nabbed this old foot pump Singer sewing machine in a yard sale, B.C. (before kids) I just love the shadow play with the wood and metal in this shot.

Looking up on top of the sewing machine: the flower pot is a quick (but, prettiful) place to drop our keys and the glass ball actually belongs to something else that broke, years ago (can't remember what) but, the kids like to pretend it's a magic crystal ball….me, too.

Looking to the left of the sewing machine: two of my favorite pictures of Garth (not his real name) and I thought that the reflection on the one of us dancing at my brother's wedding was sort of cool — quite apropos, really.

Looking to the right of the sewing machine: the dining room window is the brightest in the house (even on the gloomiest of winter days) so, my geraniums are always in full bloom! /gloom

Aaaaand, then looking left (again) from the sewing machine: my Aunt Theresa crocheted this blanket for me as a Christmas present. My cousin gave it to me the day Theresa passed away and I'm still waiting for the awful sense of loss and regret to pass, too, each time I look at it.

[heavy sigh]

Aaaand, this is when I moved to the back door and, well, color me weird, but darned if I didn't start to feel a whole lot better!

"What's this one about?"

I looked over my friend's shoulder and blankly stared at the viewer.

"Um, what do YOU think it looks like?"

[eyes go wide]

"Well, I would say a Christmas Cactus."

[shrugs]

"But, you're the photographer."

[grin]

"You probably see something different, like hair, or something!"

[frown]

I know. In this case, different is code for nutty and/or weird. Still. I love, LOve, LOVe, LOVE my new BESTEST, AWESOMEST, I CAN'T BELIEVE IT'S NOT BUTTER, not to mention, ABSOLUTELY FRIGALICIOUS camera…

[takes deep breath]

…because, it compels me to slow down and really appreciate the world around me and, well, she DID call me a photographer, right?

[sound of crickets chirping]

Shut up, Garth (NHRN!)

© 2003 – 2011 ThisFullHouse.com

January 18, 2011
Love = 167.225472 m2

Our house is about 1,800 square feet — that's the equivalent of some folk's swimming pools, here in Jersey — and it looks even smaller, from the sidewalk.

Understandably, it's hard to imagine 6 people living in such a house.

"Wow!!!"

It's really funny to watch first-time visitors walk through our front door, stare up at the high ceilings, blink both their eyes, rapidly, as they try to center their gaze on the back wall, some 25 feet or so away and then, you know, physically stumble.

"It looks a lot bigger on the inside!"

It's an optical illusion, really — not to mention, they've just seen the biggest room in the house — still, we get by.

Unless, someone gets sick (which, during creeping crud season, is pretty much once a week) or, we're hosting a sleepover (what I like to refer to as, slumberless parties) when no one is sick, of course!

"Wait, how many kids DID you invite?"

Aaaaand, well, reorganizing a corporation could NOT be anymore challenging than rearranging our house.

"Where DID you put them all?"

Considering, my brother and I were raised in an even smaller house (6, including the bathroom) it's funny to think that my own mother had trouble visualizing the logistics of making room for 10 more very-near-to-their-adult-size teenagers.

"Only 5 of them stayed over."

[whispering]

"Where are they?"

You know what's even funnier?

Watching my husband, Garth (not his real name) both eyes darting left, right and then left again, several times and finally gingerly walk through the front door, expecting a surprise attack, land minds, or something.

"Relax…they…are in the girls' room."

It's quite ironic, really — considering, it's hard for friends to imagine how all 3 of my daughters share the same room and, you know, live to complain about — then again, at least they have a bedroom door.

"Don't they want more room?"

[shrugging shoulders]

"Apparently, not."

Until, about 1:30 in the morning.

"Sorry, mom, but we sorta got hungry."

Judging by all the empty cans of soup AND containers of chocolate frosting, I found tossed in the kitchen sink, I would say so.

"You know, you coulda stayed in the living room?"

[shrugs shoulders]

"It's no big deal."

I know (DAMMIT!) still, over the years, I've learned to be careful not to complain about the house, too much — no matter how frustrating, stressful or claustrophobic it may be, especially, in the wintertime — and most especially, NOT in front of my kids.

Seeing as it's, you know, their home, too.

"Besides, my friends think our house is all comfy-cozy inside."

Aaaaand, well, I just love that, you know?

Happy Love Thursday!

© 2003 – 2011 This Full House / TFH Gone Shopping

January 13, 2011
Our Minivan, By Any Other Name, Would Smell Like Feet

Gave my minivan a snowhawk the other day and now the rest of the cars in the neighborhood, you know, want one!

I was cruising The Motherhood the other day and found an interesting article picked from the headlines by Emily (because, she's really smart like that) written by Nick Bunkley of the New York Times entitled, "Mocked as UnCool, The Minivan Rises Again," where he asks the question:

Could driving a minivan, the ultimate embodiment of the suburban family vehicle, ever be considered cool?

Didn't you hear? According to some car makers (rhymes with Schmoyota) we need a little swag-guh put back into our wagon-layden suburban driveways.

Me, I'd settle for a quick resurfacing, or a little less snow.

Whassup with all the labels…can't mom and dad just live and let drive…um…whatever the heck you want?

Everything ends up smelling like sour feet, anyway.

As a longtime 7-passenger vehicle enthusiast (i.e. co-owner of our kids' personal taxi service) I really never understood all the rage against the minivan.

Until, this morning.

"Holy crap!"

10 days post Snowmaggedon and the secondary roads here in Jersey are still cruddy (3 feet make for a lot of snow) to the point where you can't fit 2 minivans on the same street, at 1 time.

"Move over, you stupid Land Rover!"

So, I'm playing chicken with my neighbors getting kids to (and from) school.

"They're not stopping, Mommy!!!"

Aaaand I feel forced to pullover, once more, and make room for folks driving their flashier cars and not so much because I am passive aggressive like that.

[waves]

"You're welcome!"

You could say I'm also teaching my children that, no matter the situation, or the type of car you drive, you CAN be the bigger person, right?

"But, she didn't say thank you, Mommy?"

Then again, there is a reason why I chose Bertha (she's my car) in a lovely shade of suburban assault.

"That's okay, maybe next time…we won't be so nice!"

She'll have to try and pass me, after school.

[pats dashboard]

"Right, Bertha!"

Why, yes, I've always named my cars and, honestly, would you mess with a woman named Bertha?

[sound of crickets chirping]

Stay-at-home mom, my rear bumper!

© 2003 – 2011 This FULL House Blog / This FULL House Reviews

January 7, 2011