Blog

  • Crawling Out From Underneath The Snuggie, The Squatter and Tearing Up My Unmentionables

    References and just so you know stuff:

    • Melisa with One S and her Vlog about absolutely nothing – The Voice
    • Also, I was going for lemming, not a lemur (DER!)
    • Although I realize it is not life-threatening, the squatter is a real p.i.t.a.!
    • I miss the days of blogging about absolutely nothing.

    How about you?  Ever deal with a squatter?  Are you a terrible patient as I am?

    ©2003 – 2012 This Full House

    FRESHLY-BREWED ELSEWHERE:    I am partnering with Hallmark as a Life is a Special Occasion blogger and sharing personal stories, insights and inspirations in enjoying simple, every day moments, with you (yes, YOU!)  Like, how my how my friends stalked my husband on Facebook and I "liked" it. 

  • Like the Little Kidney Stone That Could, I Continue to Serve As a Cautionary Tale for Moms (and Dads!)

      Hospital Room

    I told the E.R. nurse I was feeling cruddy for over a week now (give or take a bathroom stop, or twenty) but, I just shrugged it off as the kids sharing a stomach bug, or something, as she continued to draw my blood and nod her head very sympathetically.

    I stared at the ceiling (I’m not a very good bleeder) recapping my symptoms, the first of many more times to come:

    • Stomach pain, radiating to my lower back
    • Pressure in lower abdomen, similar to contractions
    • Feeling sick, nausea
    • Frequent bathroom stops

    All of which I promptly ignored, coming downstairs the night before to make myself a place on the couch so as not to disturb my husband, thinking this too shall pass.

    The next morning, I made an appointment for my youngest daughter’s well visit (true story, it’s on my Facebook timeline) and then made a mental decision to just continue to work right through the pain.

    Until, my oldest walked through our front door and found me, while trying to talk on the phone with my husband, doubled-over and gasping for air.

    (more…)

  • Why, Yes, My Holiday Decorations Are STILL Up, I’m Still Waiting for a White Christmas, Okay?

    Early Morning

    I'm not a big fan of January.  Although, I don't mind bundling up under a cozy blanket or the way my kitchen smells when my older girls get on their baking kick (DAMMIT!) oh, and how the sky and stars seem so much brighter, especially at night. 

    I'm not sure if I can explain it other than a feeling of anticipation, like something BIG is about to happen (good, bad, whatever) and then, you know, it doesn't.

    Menopausal Weather

    Partly, because Mother Nature seems to be feeling the same way OR going all pre-menopausal and can't decide if she's hot or cold (I know how she feels, DAMMIT!) frankly, I think she's saving up and, maybe like the rest of Jersey, I'm just waiting for the other stiletto to fall.

    In the meantime, I've got a houseful of my own crazy to deal with and I just wish the woman would make up her mind, you know?

    Good Morning

    Then the wench goes and turns the lights on this morning and, well, DAMMIT, just like a woman, eh?  Now what am I going to complain about?

    I know, I'll just go ahead and get a jumpstart on my spring cleaning.

    [one beat, two beats]

    Heh, so, how long did it take for you to see right through that piece of fibbery?

    DSCN9444

    Actually, I'm going to work on taking down the Christmas lights and maybe even the last of the indoor decorations, too (don't judge) since, you know, Valentine's Day is just around the corner.

    Although, at second glance, they do seem to have A LOT of red in them, don't the?  So it's legal, right?

    [sound of crickets, chirping]

    Riiiiight.  If anybody needs me, I'll be upstairs pretending that…WHY YES!…nutcrackers most certainly ARE an important part of Easter, or something.

    © 2003 – 2012 This Full House

    Freshly-Brewed Elsewhere:   I am partnering with Hallmark as a Life is a Special Occasion blogger and will be sharing personal stories, insights and inspirations in enjoying simple, every day moments, with you (yes, YOU!)  Like, did you ever forget your kid's birthday?  I did (okay, almost!)

  • Please Excuse My Daughter For Being Absent from School Yesterday….My Hormones Were Raging.

    I don't scare easily.  I have 4 kids, 3 of whom are teenagers, which simply means, not unlike Wolverine, I have evolved (somewhat) and grown nerves of steel, my friends:  Wolvermom, if you will.

    Wait, I lied.

    No, not about the having 4 kids part (I have weak stomach muscles and very poor bladder control to prove it, you're welcome) and my toe nails can get freakishly long.  Especially this time of….[blank stare]….uh, never mind.

    Aaaaaanyway, what was I saying?

    [stares at toenails]

    Oh yeah, so my youngest woke up feeling sick the other day (shocking, I know!) announcing that her "stomach feels weird" and these words, my friends, frighten me even more than trying to wake my teens.

    [shiver]

    So, I called her out of school explaining "her stomach feels weird."   Considering the stomach bug is currently running rampant at (and through) this particular school, enough said, right?

    An hour or so later, the house phone rings.

    "Your daughter Hope was marked absent, today.  Please send a note explaining the reason for her absence."

    Fine.  Okay.  Then, my cell phone rings.

    "Your daughter Hope was marked absent, today…."

    Fiiiiiiiiiiine, okaaaaaaay.  Then, I get a text.

    "Your daughter…."

    Really?  Because, I would NEVER have known and feeling a little cranky my ownself I decided this would be a good time to get some work done, opened my email and…

    "Your…."

    A'IGHT!!!  They asked for it!!!

    (more…)

  • Wordless Wednesday: Sympathy Pains

    Sympathy Pains

    Our youngest is home sick on the couch with a stomach bug and looks to me Doofus-Dawg is having some serious sympathy pains.

    © 2003 – 2012 This Full House

    Freshly-Brewed Elsewhere:  Did you ever forget your kid's birthday?  I did (okay, almost!) Sharing memorable moments over at Favorite Finds and my friends at Hallmark.

  • HALP! There’s ANOTHER Teenager in the House!

    I remember when I first became the mother of a teenager — which, considering my oldest girl is 18 now (SOB!) truly is an amazing thing (that I even remember it, I mean!)

    Then my middle girl turned 13 and, well, any thoughts of my ever regaining full brain function flew right out the front door, along with the Christmas tree.

    Today, at precisely 2:05 a.m., my son joined the ranks of teenage-dom and not for nothing (word to Jenn) this time, it's different.

    Glen Growed Up

    What a difference a year makes, eh?

    I have to tell the boy to scootch down in order to scold him and, well, that's just not right, you know?

    I'm 5' 9".  Enough said.

    CURRENT COUNT:  Teens outnumber tweens 3 to 1 (HALP!) the latest having grown very adept at out-grossing his sisters with very realistic sounding fart noises during a sleepover with a few of his AXE-infused buddies, this past weekend.

    At least, I think they were pretending.  I was too busy trying not to puke and/or keep my head from exploding.  I still don't think the girls are quite over it.

    Me, either.

    Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go and scrape a few of my brain cells from off of the ceiling and THEN maybe I can figure out a way to convince my 10 year-old daughter that burping the alphabet, during dinner with her grandparents, is SO NOT funny.

    According to my son, blowing milk out of your nose during a conversation and pretending like it is NOT EVEN happening is way funnier.

    © 2003 – 2012 This Full House

  • Becoming THAT Mom (AGAIN!)

    6 years ago, I freaked out a few of the moms in my middle daughter's girl scout troop by allowing her to wear a black skull cap school (what, you don't remember?!?)

    WARNING:  it was around the time I migrated my blog from WordPress, back to Typepad (yes, on purpose!) so, the post is filled with funky little characters and stuff.

    The spelling and grammatical errors, however, are ALL mine.

    Aaaaanyway, my middle girl was 10 at the time and I was curious to learn (okay, remember) how it felt to be THAT mom. 

    You know, whose parenting philosophy is similar to yours — on opposite day.

    10yo:  If I cut my hair off, will kids stare?  Me:  Maybe [one beat, two beats] 10yo:  Can you make an appointment for me, today?

    I've come to the conclusion that becoming THAT mom has something to do with your kid(s) hitting double-digits.

    FB post haircut 2

    I mean, even my hairdresser has a hard time saying, "Girl, please…" to this kid and if you've ever watched Jerseylicious, then you know, hairdress-suhs are fierce.

    Hope Cut 1

    After the eleventy-billionth time of her asking, "Are you SURE you want to do this?!?"
    Hope Cut 4

    Look, it's Emma Watson (almost!) but, wait there's more….
    Hope Cut 2

    So, my hairdress-suh says, "Let's throw some color up in there!"
    Hope Cut 5

    Really, Mom?!? (filed under: blackmail photos) <br>
    Hope Cut 3

    Look, it's Emma Watson (and her hairdress-suh!)

    So, yes, with the help of my dear, sweet friend Lorrie's magical scissors, I once again myself being THAT mom.

    Then again, Lorrie's daughter's hair is a lovely shade of Skittles AND even Hope agreed with me in thinking it looked FABULOUS!

    "Maybe when you're 12."

    Because, you know, even us THAT (THOSE?) moms have our limits.

    © 2003 – 2012 This Full House

  • It’s Sort of Like Wordless Wednesday, Only Not!

    Fishing Rod

    Supporting anti-SOPA with a grayout!

    There's this internet blackout thing going on today.  You heard about it?  I'm not intentionally being flippant about the opposition regarding SOPA and Pipa — honest. 

    In fact, I signed Google's petition and not because I'm all that AND a bag of chips on the internet or anything.

    However, after nearly a decade of clicking the "publish" button (sounds way cooler than 9 years, right?) you probably already know:  I.M.A. Dork.

    Still, words like censorship and boycott make me itch.

    So, taking a cue from Miss Zoot (because, she's pretty AND smart) I am going to visit my favorite blogs  AND tell my online friends just how glad I am that they decided to click the "publish" button, today.

    Unless, their blog is all blacked-out or until the contractor who's supposed to give us an estimate on a new-ish roof gets here (he's late) then I'll just tell them tomorrow.

    Because, words really do matter and they ARE SO my blogging friends (DAMMIT!)

    © 2003 – 2012 This Full House

  • Perhaps Miyans Just Had Trouble Grasping the Concept of Menopause?

     

    Winter Hues

    View outside my bedroom window this time last year.

    I love this time of year — especially, how the peaceful tones cast by wintertime hues of soft whites and grays make everything look so much more sparkly and bright.

    Until the snow starts to melt and the world begins to look like, you know, my living room carpet.  Still, this time last year? Snowmaggedon had dropped nearly 3 feet of snow and, well, that's just too danged much sparkly even for my taste. 

     

    This Full House Kids New Year's Eve

    New Year's Eve on Higbees Beach in Cape May, NJ

    This year?  This was us.   At the beach.   In December.  Here, in Jersey.  Seems Muh-thuh Nay-chuh is going through some hot flashes, her ownself.

    Speaking of which, is it hot in here, or is it just me?

    Aaaanyway, winter is back (I think) so, yesterday we popped by my folks' house for a quick visit (code for: make sure they remember to, you know, turn the heat on) and tried to teach my dad the concept of American football for the eleventy-hundredth time.

    Note to self:  grown men tackling each other over a ball is "stew-peed," stop trying!

    I've invited my in-laws over for dinner  (code for: it's really, really hot at their house) and, considering we're probably going to get nailed with, like, eleventy-hundred inches of snow in March — tonight, I'm serving corned beef and cabbage, just in case.

    Happy ValenSaintPatrickSpringter, everyone.

    (P.S. GO GIANTS!!!!)

    © 2003 – 2012 This Full House

     

  • It’s Nothing Personal, It’s Strictly B.O.

    Glen Wrestling

    Imma gonna beat your Axe!

    This is my son's second year wrestling for the middle school and even his sisters have pretty much grown accustomed to all the hollering and cris-crossing of bendy parts, hoping their baby brother does NOT break a limb, or something.

    Not on their watch, anyway.

    "THROW HIM DOWN!!!!"

    I, however, have become much better at watching some other kid beat the living Axe out of my almost 13-year-old son.

    Because, he hasn't wrestled anyone yet.

    His team had a lot of kids move onto the high school and — taking into consideration that he's nearly as tall as I am — it seems there just aren't as many kids wrestling in my son's weight class, this year.

    On the one hand, GREAT!  There will be NO bloody noses or broken body parts, tonight!

    "Maybe next week, bud."

    Still, it must be just as frustrating for him to sit and stare at some other guy's backside — wearing a singlet, no less.

    [cue mental etch-a-sketch]

    Until, last night.

    "THOMPSON!"

    Here we go.   I laced my fingers in front of my eyes.  No, wait, that was so last year

    "C'MON!"

    The kid was a lot shorter.  However, in width, he was twice the size of my son.

    "GET UP OFF THE MAT, GLEN!"

    Try as he might, the boy spent the next 3 minutes breathing through one nostril and his face was purple by the time the match was blessedly called to an end.

    "He was a real tough one…eh?"

    [frowning]

    "No! He stunk!"

    I was trying to come up with something else that would help reassure my son that, you know, maybe…

    "Literally, I took one whiff of him and I was DONE!"

    …next time, he should spray himself with a little Axe before each match or, better yet, wipe a little Vicks under his nose like some medical examinders do, or something.

    Then again, perhaps his opponent was just using body odor as diversionary tactic, no?

    Don't even get me started on cauliflower ear, ring worm and the bazillion other skin infections floating around out there…ICK!

    © 2003 – 2012 This Full House