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  • Cape Cod or Bust[ed] Arm!

    I used to be an excellent planner. Also, very, very organized and a bit of clean freak…with borderline germaphobe tendencies…especially, during the holidays or whenever we'd have company over.

    Seriously, my husband's favorite parlor trick was to take a glass from off of a coaster, slide it onto the living room table and then countdown…5…4…3…2… [whispering] …watch this!

    I'd come into the room, place the glass back onto the coaster, wipe the table off with my apron, and then place the cheese platter in the center of the table, alongside a nice pile of coordinated cloth napkins, of course.

    Heh. Just kidding. I never wore an apron. And too much cheese gives me gas (you're welcome!). Also, doing the laundry was NEVER my favorite thing…soooooo, yeah…NO CLOTH NAPKINS, EVER!

    Aaaaaanyway, then we had kids. Then a couple more kids came along and, well, nothing gets you over being a bit of a clean freak…with borderline germ-a-phobe tendencies…like your baby throwing up…in your mouth.

    On the other hand, being a mom HAS helped me get over OTHER stuff, like my:

    • Fear of needles — having spent nearly 3 years of my life pregnant and having gone through roughly 32 prenatal visits, 24 of them with children in tow, there were plenty of OTHER things to obsess about.
    • The sight of blood — AND NEEDLES!!!
    • The sight of any bodily fluid, really — because, BABIES and… [hurl] …NEEDLES!!!
    • Running out of bandaids — got hair thingies and a tissue, you'll live.
    • Running late, again — 4 teenagers, 3 of them girls, enough said.
    • Running out of clean clothes — see previous bullets, above.
    • Having the house define me — meh, it could be messier…ME TOO!!!
    • Flatulence during yoga class — been there, done that, yoga is stupid.

    Just to name a few, but the one thing my husband and I have BOTH learned to live with is: NOT planning stuff until…the…very…last… [picks up cell phone, checks time] …possible…minute.

    Which drives some other people crazy, I'm certain of it — especially, hardcore planning-types (sickos!).

    For example: Garth (not his real name), our two oldest girls and I had Labor Day off, so we thought it would be GREAT if we could try…and I mean try, really, really hard…to get away for the weekend…you know…together…at the same time and everything.

    "Do you know where we are going, yet?"

    So, by that Friday, the younger kids were getting a little excited (and curious) about where we were actually going to try…really, really hard…to spend our mini-vacation.

    "Not sure, yet."

    Me, too!!!

    "But, I can tell you, we'll be travelling either North or South."

    [cue house phone]

    "Don't freak out or anything Mom, but…."

    Typically, whenever one of my children begins a sentence with…Don't freak out…it's really code for…Ya' better pop a pod into the Keurig…because, it's probably not going to be good-ish news.

    "I'm in the E.R."

    See what I mean?!?!

    [fires up Keurig]

    Long story, short (on the day we were going to try really, really hard to leave): our oldest daughter was finishing up her shift at work, slipped, fell and broke her arm and…well…good thing they finished wrapping it by the time I got there, because…believe it or not…this was our first broken bone, ever… [knocking on wood, until knuckles bleed] … and HURL!!!

    "Will I be able to travel?"

    Even longer story, shorter: she broke her elbow, so the hospital wrapped her arm with a temporary cast and instructed us to see an Orthopedist in a couple of days; traveling with it would be fine, as long as she kept it elevated and iced…the ENTIRE 6 HOURS to Cape Cod…while there…and then back, again.

    20140831_141808

    remember that time when holly broke her arm and we went to the cape, anyway?

    What?!? We take our vacation time very, very seriously…YO!…and it turns out this kid has a very high pain tolerance (yes, totally unlike her mother!), she was an absolute trooper throughout the entire weekend!

    IMG_20140830_133200

    remember how mommy kept asking her if she was alright and how it made holly absolutely crazy?!?

    What?!? It was my first time taking care of a kid with a broken bone, a'ight?!? And her baby sister was much worse, if you ask me, always getting in between us, so I wouldn't bump her arm.

    10641294_803265656360324_1724311760265843484_n

    remember how much fun we had visiting some of our favorite spots and…hey…where IS holly, anyway?!?

    Holly DID manage to get in A LOT of quality time…with her dad…and the other three kids didn't seem to mind, sort of.

    Flash-forward, this past Tuesday: my husband took Holly to the Orthopedist (heh, yeah, we ALL thought it best HE take her) and I'm NOT going to lie to you, I was a little nervous for her…okay, A LOT!!!…and I prepared myself for the absolute worst news…like, surgery… [HURL!] … and had my game face on…when they got home.

    "Ummm…soooo…how'd it go?!?"

    She shook her head.

    "You're not going to like this."

    She started pulling her arm out of the sling…and…OMG!!!…like, I really didn't want to see it…and….

    "TA-DAH!!!!"

    I winced.

    "Wait, no cast? No bandages? No nothing?"

    Turns out, you don't want to immobilize a broken radial bone.

    "It's the part that allows your arm to turn from side-to-side."

    With exercise and using the sling when out and about in public, her elbow should heal itself within 6 months. YAY!!!!

    "Oh, but there's a bunch of blood pooled in between the break…mom…MOM?!?"

    Apparently, I still have issues with blood…and flatulence.

    The End.

    ©2003 -2014 This Full House with a fan page on Facebook, a way for you to subscribe to receive This Full House blog post by Email and everything!   

  • So, you’ve got a kid “not” going to college – ME TOO!

    One of the many things I love about blogging, that really hasn't changed in the last eleventy years, is it gives parents (like me) an opportunity to revisit a moment…that may otherwise have drifted off in the ebb and flow of nurturing a family…or a much simpler time…lost among the trials and tribulations that go along with raising teens…because TEENS!

    Now, we have Facebook. So, it's sort of fun to be able to reconnect with childhood friends, seeing our kids all grown up and moving onto college  **sniff-sniff**   and how in the heck did THAT happen, because in my mind, we're ALL still like 17, right?!? RIGHT?!?

    [sound of crickets, chirping]

    Riiiiiiiight. What was I saying? OH YEAH! So, I've consoled quite a few of my Facebook friends, because sending off your kid to college is a really big deal. 

    Unless you have a kid [or kids] who isn't [who aren't] going to college, like me.

    Long story, short: although our two oldest daughters' situations are totally different, my husband and I have stood by their decision to put off college, because…well…suffice it to say, if the tables were turned…and YOU told ME that it is the right decision…I'd trust you to know your kid, better than me.

    "Heather and Holly send their regards!"

    My son had his first visit at the orthodontist, a few weeks ago.

    "Oh, that's nice, send mine back!"

    The girls had their last orthodontist visit a few months ago, which means the length and cost of their treatment was pretty much the equivalent of a bachelor's degree…YO!

    "So, where is Heather going to school?"

    UGH!!! Here we go, again.

    "Actually, she's decided to take a gap year."

    Now, here's my problem. If it were me, I'd be all like…oh, okay, that's good…because, you know, NOT my kid…and I really need to stop thinking about what I would say or do in a particular situation.

    "Oh, well, I hope she learns something really important!"

    Aaaaand, I need to stop taking OTHER folks so literally.

    "Oh yes, she's a personal assistant to a local artist AND a production assistant for our county's teen arts program…it's right up her alley." 

    Because, really, how many of us…love…Love…LOve…LOVe…absolutely LOVE our jobs…okay, I do…but, I mean, straight out of high school?!?

    "Because, we WANT her to go to school…right?!?"

    I literally turned and looked behind me…thinking she was asking someone else…because, I'm real quick, like that…and not really.

    "Actually, it's a REAL good decision…FOR HER."

    Now, I'm not quite sure if the orthodontist has children…or if she's even married…and it doesn't really matter, but it seems to me that…at this point in our conversation…common sense would tell you…STFU!…right?!?

    "Well, I hope so!"

    She shook her head…actually friggin' shook her head…clearly, SHE was disappointed.

    "All kids go to college!"

    Here's the thing, this is my personal opinion as a parent of older kids (20, 18, 15 and 13) and not having a college degree, my ownself.

    "Sort of like, all dogs go to heaven?"

    I'm NOT going to argue the benefits of going to college…there are many, I know…however, pushing MY kids to go to college…for the sake of going to college…well, that's just stupid.

    "You know, the movie, all dogs go to heaven?"

    She'd never heard of it…AH! HAH!…so, she does NOT have kids…aaaand, I'm okay wit-it.

    "Good luck at school, Heather!!!"

    I took Heather to the dermatologist, last week — because we are ALL about supporting folks who've chosen to enter the medical field and are perhaps STILL paying for THEIR education…YO! — and the receptionist was really being nice, I think.

    Heather looked at me for a second, rolled her eyes and then answered her.

    "Hey, thanks!!!"

    Siiiiiiiiiigh. We then walked out and I gave Heather's shoulder a little squeeze.

    "It's just that…well…I didn't think it necessary to explain myself to her."

    Nope, and yep, because this kid is WAY smarter than me…too…and I'm okay wit-it!

    The End.

    ©2003 -2014 This Full House with a fan page on Facebook, a way for you to subscribe to receive This Full House blog post by Email and everything!   

  • Did I ever tell you about the time I tried to sell my twin brother, in kindergarten?!?!

    It was the first day of kindergarten. My grandmother dropped us off at the front door and I still remember my begging her to take me back home with her.

    It's not like the school would miss me, there were tons of other kids waiting in line AND none of them had a twin brother…like I do.

    My brother, however, was totally on board with kindergarten — because the school had a playground and naptime was mandatory. How bad COULD it be?

    Still. I had this plan:

    • We would alternate going to school.
    • My brother would go on Monday, Wednesday and Friday.
    • I would do Tuesdays and Thursdays.
    • WHAT?!? He liked school way better, remember?
    • On our days off, we would help my grandmother with the housework.
    • On weekends, my brother and I would teach each other what we learned.

    Aaaaaaand, if that didn't work, I would then try and sell my brother to them…for free!

    Brrrrrrrrrrrrriiiiiiiiing.

    Too late. The bell rang, my brother and I were separated and I followed Mrs. Rivers into her classroom; it smelled of wet chalkboard and paste.

    "Why are you smelling the Play Doh, Mommy?"

    I have very few childhood memories, that aren't triggered by some sort of smell or taste (no, I did NOT eat the paste…they were using Elmer's glue!) so dropping each of my kids off for their first day of Kindergarten was a WHOLE DIFFERENT experience.

    "Feel free to go home now, Mrs. Thompson."

    For ALL of us.

    "Duuuuude, we were listening to the radio at the office."

    I was driving home with my 18yo…or maybe it was to the doctor's office…wait, no, I think we were picking up her 20yo sister at work…because her car was in the shop…AGAIN!…and WHEN in the stinking heck did THESE KIDS get old enough to drive AND work…**sniff-sniff**…my sense of smell is not what it used to be, either…doesn't matter.

    "Aaaaaaand, the ladies were all SHOCKED when I started singing along!"

    Not that she's shy (stop laughing, Melisa!) and she works with a very lovely bunch of ladies…all moms…around my age.

    "They wanted to know how and why an 18yo would love 80's music so much?!?"

    Raising 4 teens (okay, fine, you caught me, the oldest is in her 20's, I'm in denial!) a lot of people have asked me about the hardest part of being a parent and I tell them the same thing: forgetting that I'm supposed to be the adult!  

    "I told them how you would play 80's music in the car, picking us up and dropping us off at school, every day."

    See?!? I can fake being an adult, real good!!!

    "Aaaaaand, I told them how we would ALL sing together REAL LOUD with the windows wide open and everything!"

    This, my friends, I'm claiming as a parenting win…right there…yes?!? And it's all because this song came on the radio:

    She gets it from me. OH!!! Aaaaaand, then…there was this one time in Kindergarten…when I tried sell my twin brother…but you know that story, already…right?!?

    The end.

    ©2003 -2014 This Full House with a fan page on Facebook, a way for you to subscribe to receive This Full House blog post by Email and everything!   

  • Outing (and then dousing) my social media-shy husband for the #IceBucketChallenge!

    Many of you already know my husband, Garth (not his real name) does NOT allow me to use his real name, let alone post pictures of him, here on my blog.

    Aaaaaand, especially for new friends visiting with us for the first time, here's why: because living with a professional dork is hard, yo.

    Tagging him on Facebook? Yeah, that would be a big HELL NO and FUHGEHTABOUTIT!

    However, one of our mutual Facebook friends tagged him for the #IceBucketChallenge to help bring awareness to ALS, because she knows my husband has a REAL BIG heart and will out (and douse) himself for charity.

    He waited until our oldest daughter got home from work (at well past our bedtime o'clock) and here's the most awesome part: he got the whole family involved!

    Our youngest was in charge of the cue card…what?…it was late o'clock!…while our middle girl took the video and our son…ummmm…well, he DID cheer his dad on and then just sort of…you know…stayed out of the way. He hates ice. And water.

    So, here's how it went down:

     

    It took all of 11 seconds (and a $25.00 donation) to give ALS the virtual bitchslap it deserves.

    Here's the REALLY MOST AWESOME part: now that it's on video, I get to watch my husband work his awesome, all over again…and again…and again…but, shhhhh…don't tell him, okay?!?

    Unless you happen to be reading this post, Garth (not your real name)…then RELAX!!!…if you actually click on the darn thing you'll see, I did NOT post the ENTIRE video.

    [one beat, two beats]

    It's a gif and you're welcome!

    ©2003 -2014 This Full House with a fan page on Facebook, a way for you to subscribe to receive This Full House blog post by Email and everything!   

  • Oh yes! There will be tomatoes, dammit!

    My brother and I grew up in a 5 room house that was roughly 950 square feet, surrounded by steel mills and iron factories, and a mind-bogglingly complicated network of railroad tracks running along a port built to accommodate large tankers sailing their way through to New York City.

    Sitting on my parents' patio, flanked by rose bushes and arbors shaded by nearly every flowering and fruiting tree you can imagine, you'd believe yourself to be somewhere completely different.

    My father was a landscaper throughout our elementary school years and he'd often times bring home truckloads of stuff — trees and bushes his boss had thrown out or given up on at the end of the day, only after growing tired of arguing with my dad and his insisting that they were just merely "very nearly dead".

    He'd plant the "very nearly dead" stuff under my bedroom window in a raised bed he'd sectioned off as "the hospital" and they would always (and I mean ALWAYS!) thrive enough to be re-planted, somewhere else.

    At thirteen years old, I thought it was magical! 

    For reasons too long (and boring!) to go into (you're welcome!) I decided NOT to plant a vegetable garden, this summer. However, my not being able to send one of the kids outside to pick a couple of tomatoes and cucumbers for dinner…well, yeah, no…it just doesn't seem like summer.

    Oh, my brother sent over a couple of plants he'd grown from seed, but I never got a chance to get them into the ground in time and…well, yeah, no…they were just merely very nearly dead, dammit.

    So, my husband sectioned off an area next to the shed and I threw the plants in there, hoping they would live, for a little while longer, maybe.

    Then it rained (A LOT!) and then it got cold (welcome to New Jersey!) and we all pretty much lost hope of ever being able to pick a tomato or cucumber, fresh off of the vine.

    Until, this morning. I went to hang a couple of blankets out on the clothes line (because the dryer is being all pissy!), glanced over toward the shed and guess what?!?

    Late Bloomers

    I was all like, "What magic is this?!?" and although they'd only JUST begun to bear fruit, "Oh yes! There WILL be tomatoes!!!" DAMMIT!

    Late Bloomers 3

    Aaaaand, cucumbers…**wipes tears from eyes**…we WILL have cucumbers…YAY!!!

    Late Bloomers 2
    After my son cuts the grass and I get the youngest to do a little weeding, of course…because, she's the one that placed the "Hope" stake into the garden…it's all HER fault, right?!? RIGHT?!?

    [sound of crickets, chirping]

    Riiiiiiiiiiight. But don't tell her I said so, because Hope is thirteen and STILL believes in magic, too!

    ©2003 -2014 This Full House with a fan page on Facebook, a way for you to subscribe to receive This Full House blog post by Email and everything!   

  • My kid friended ME on Facebook, now what?!?!

    Raising 3 teens, and a kid who's turning 21 in a couple of months (no she isn't, I'm still in denial!), our parenting philosophy has changed quite a bit over the years, because: what worked with 1 kid isn't necessarily gonna fly with another, all 4 of ours have their own way of ignoring us, dammit.

    There is one rule, however, that has remained tried and true: we made our kids "friend" us on Facebook.

    Why? Because, their world was growing bigger, while our collective parenting street cred has decreased exponentially, it's the internet.

    Also, we made our oldest kids wait until they turned 13, because we're really mean and can totally suck wet poodle, like that.

    Long story, short: our youngest turned 13 last June, but — unlike her middle sister, who joined Facebook on practically the hour she turned 13 — this one thought it better to wait, because…in her words…it's like giving mean girls a microphone.

    Word! And I was okay wit-it, because MEAN GIRLS SUCK WET DONKEY BALLS!

    Even longer story, short (gosh, but vague-blogging is hard!): My two oldest daughters both have part-time jobs (my middle girl has 2, see previous parenthesis) with varying shifts, and I tag-team carpooling duties with my oldest, who often times is running late and forgets her cell phone at home, which means someone is texting me to either "Don't forget to pick me up at whatever o'clock!" and "Where are you?" or "HURRY UP!" right now, probably.

    "Ummmm, okay, and who is this?!?"

    So, getting to the point of this story (because I really do have one, promise!): My youngest daughter considers herself lucky, whenever I remember her name, half the time.

    "Did you get a friend request from someone, today?"

    I walked through the front door and had just thrown my purse on the faux fireplace.

    "I don't know, who?"

    [BIG GRIN]

    Ohhhhhh, right. It's been like, two months. DUH!

    "But don't worry, I made it private."

    As private as putting it ALL out on Facebook can get, right?!?

    "Aaaaand, Papa is on Facebook."

    Yep, my Dad is also my very own personal social media police and he's pretty quick to call the rest of our family members out on stuff he reads on the internet…until his youngest grand daughter figures out Tumblr…anyways…

    So, yesterday I'm checking Hope's Facebook, because Papa's gotta sleep sometime and….OHHHH…EMMMM…GEEEE!!!

    "Bwahahahahahahahaha…[inhales]…SNORT!!!…Bwahahahahahahahaha!!!"

    My 13 year-old's first post on Facebook:

    Special K hands
    I feel like edward scissor hands with a box. Tip: don't leave empty boxes in our house…you will have to wear it for a couple mins

    This is what Hope did NOT share: we are CONSTANTLY finding empty boxes left in the pantry, my husband made her siblings wear empty boxes too, so they couldn't text or use the internet for a good 10 minutes, and how she considered herself lucky, because he made our 15yo son wear a family-sized Oreo box…on his head…YO!

    Moral of the Story: If it's on Facebook, it's totally blog-able, no more vague-blogging!

    In case you're wondering, my son did NOT post it on his Facebook, and he reads my blog so…sorry dude and you're welcome.

    Still, I think this whole kids on Facebook thing is going to work out just fine…shhhhhhhh…don't tell my kids that, not until NaBloPoMo is over, m'kay?!?

    ©2003 -2014 This Full House with a fan page on Facebook, a way for you to subscribe to receive This Full House blog post by Email and everything!   

    I'm attempting to NaBloPoMo it this month, feel free to check out what I've NaBloPoMo-ed, so far. And I may have missed a day, or twenty. Oh and just so you know, I'm unplugging on weekends and going blog free, because family time is also very…SQUIRREL!!!

  • Wordless Wednesday: Sand Dunes and Blue Skies

    Cape Cod Weekend Getaway 2014 watermarked

    this is my happy place, and my imaginary house is just over there, on the right….

    Linky Love Bytes: Wordless Wednesday HQ

    Follow my blog with Bloglovin

    ©2003 -2014 This Full House with a fan page on Facebook, a way for you to subscribe to receive This Full House blog post by Email and everything!   

     I’m NaBloPoMo-ing it this month, feel free to check out what I’ve NaBloPoMo-ed, so far. Oh and just so you know, I’m unplugging on weekends and going blog free, because family time is also very…SQUIRREL!!!

  • The Banana Bread That Would NOT Die!

    Don't get me wrong, we LOVE banana bread, it is on our top ten list of comfort foods! The thing is, here's the thing: we also LOVE bananas, we can NEVER keep enough in the house and they just don't last long enough to go all banana bread-worthy.

    Yesterday, however, I saw 3 pretty close to being banana bread-worthy candidates sitting in the banana bowl and was all…YAY!!!…I'm going to make us some banana bread.

    Long story, short: if you've visited with us before, for any length of time, then you probably already know — NOTHING ever goes as planned, around here.

    Good thing I'm good with not planning stuff, right?!? For example: 

    There's no butter in the house!

    — no problem, substitute canola oil.

    But, there's not enough canola oil in the house!

    — okay, so no biggie, make up the difference with some olive oil; it's almost the same thing, really.

    Mmmmmm, it's already starting to smell REAL good up in here…oh, but HEY!!!…why are those two eggs still on the counter?

    — CRAP! Okay, so it's only been in the oven for like what? 5 minutes? Dump the batter back into the bowl (yes, I cleaned the bowl first, because EWWWW!!!) and just gently wisk the eggs in.

    Are you sure you reset the timer, right? Because just not getting that…BANANA BREAD!!!…smell, anymore!

    — DANGIT! Okay, so digital timers are the devil! Actually forgetting to tell the oven it needs to "BAKE" the banana bread doesn't help any, either. Calm down, it's been only like 10 minutes (give or take 20), just remember to turn on the stupid oven.

    Are you sure this banana bread is actually going to, you know, work out?

    NOOOOOOOOOO!!! And if it does? It'll be a Christmas in August miracle, dangit.

    Best Danged Banana Bread EVUH!

    best danged banana bread, evuh!

    Merry Christmas to all and may ALL your bellies be filled with…BANANA BREAD!!!

    Okay, that's nice, but did it actually..you know…taste good? Seriously, what WAS the end result of the banana bread that would NOT die?!?

    Best Danged Banana Bread ALL GONE!
    best danged banana bread, all gone!

    We killed it. The end.

    ©2003 -2014 This Full House with a fan page on Facebook, a way for you to subscribe to receive This Full House blog post by Email and everything!   

     I'm NaBloPoMo-ing it this month, feel free to check out what I've NaBloPoMo-ed, so far. Oh and just so you know, I'm unplugging on weekends and going blog free, because family time is also very…SQUIRREL!!!

  • We make Mondays look good!

    Flash-back to every Friday afternoon, 1982-1993: my co-workers and I would lock our desks, forward our phones over to the answering service, just about race each other to our cars and then peel out of the parking, because FRIDAY!

    Flash-forward, today: I still pretty much get that same AWESOME feeling, peeling out of my bra and racing my husband to the couch, because freeeeeeeeee-duuuuuuuuum…THE BRA IS OFF!!!

    Weekends, on the other hand, can get a little dicey around here, especially living in the house that #FUBAR built. Let's review, shall we?!?

    Saturday morning: 

    • the dishwasher started making a funny noise
    • so my son calls me over to "come here" and "listen"
    • I bend down to "listen"
    • and then it threw up on my head
    • before pooping all over the kitchen floor
    • the dishwasher, not my son
    • but you probably already knew that
    • then again, in this house, you NEVER know

    Saturday afternoon:

    • a blood vessel in Doofus-Dawg's ear broke
    • which caused the flap to fill up with blood
    • making it look sort of like an empanada (de nada!)
    • which will require weekly draining
    • and take about a month to heal
    • which means 3 more trips back to the vet
    • good thing we don't have any summer vacation plans
    • the vet, on the other hand, is all like VEGAS BABY

    Sunday morning:

    • the washing machine broke
    • actually, it WAS broken for a while
    • we just got used to running it on the spin cycle, at least twice
    • this time, it would not drain any water
    • which called for immediate action
    • because we are now WEEKS behind on our laundry
    • so my husband hit up You Tube
    • because we spent our allowance at the vet
    • but he got the washing machine apart alright
    • turns out the pump was REAL backed up
    • I know how it feels
    • and then ANOTHER quick trip to Home Depot
    • because they make it REAL hard for you to put stuff back together
    • without the "right tools" carried by a licensed repairman
    • the dude at Home Depot knew EXACTLY what we needed
    • apparently, we weren't the only ones with a constipated washing machine
    • and empty wallets
    • all it needed was an enema
    • the washing machine, not our wallets
    • because everytime an appliance poops
    • or our Doofus-Dawg shakes his head
    • we bleeeeeeeed money, dammit
    • you're welcome

    "What we spent at the vet, I just saved us on a repairman!"

    Aaaaaand, I would have totally kissed my husband, Garth (not his real name) wet on the mouth, if it weren't for the fact that:

    a) he's been sick for a week

    b) most likely has Lyme's disease

    c) I had a 100+ fever, at the time

    d) all of the above

    If you answered d)…CONGRATULATIONS!!!…yet ANOTHER reason why you should be very glad you do NOT have to live with us, you're welcome!

    "Dammit, NOW what's wrong with the dishwasher?!?"

    [one beat, two beats]

    Okay, so I didn't tell my husband about the dishwasher, because:

    • he would have figured it out, sooner or later
    • because the poor guy actually HAS to live here
    • and I really needed him to focus on the washing machine

    But…shhhhhhhh!!!…don't tell him, okay?!?

    Doofus-Dawg broke again

    what?!? i make tiger stripes look good!!!

    Stupid weekends, dumbass constipated household appliances.

    ©2003 -2014 This Full House with a fan page on Facebook, a way for you to subscribe to receive This Full House blog post by Email and everything!   

     I'm NaBloPoMo-ing it this month, feel free to check out what I've NaBloPoMo-ed, so far. Oh and just so you know, I'm unplugging on weekends and going blog free, because family time is also very…SQUIRREL!!!

  • Social media is keeping me unproductive, sort of.

    It's here, it's here! Time to turn those calendars (HARD!) and kick-off a fresh, new month with a blogging challenge, yes?!? Then again, maybe you should NOT be listening to me.

    NaBloPoMo August 2014

    You see, I sort of triple-dog dared my friend Patti at Easton Place Designs to join me in April…then she went and ACTUALLY blogged…every…damn…day…in April…and I sort of fizzled out…around the 8th or 9th, I think…because, I'm more of a DON'T DO WHAT I DID sort of bloggity-mentor, like that…YO!!!

    Sooooo, if you're like me (figuratively speaking, because not many people can handle THAT much dork) and are frequented by bouts of writer's block (because, TEENS!), there are daily prompts to help us blog along with this month's theme: MNEMONIC.

    Today's writing prompt: What tools do you use to keep organized so things on your to-do list don't slip through the cracks?

    Oh, I got this!!! One of the BEST tools I use to keep myself on point with my work to-do-list: logging out of my personal social media accounts.

    I've got a major problem with…SQUIRRELS!!!

    So, yah. That's right. I blame YOU GUYS for my being totally unproductive — soooo, quit being so gosh-darned interesting, already.

    On the other hand: if it weren't for Facebook being down and my IMMEDIATELY heading over to Twitter to find out why and verify…AYUP!…the #FacebookDown hashtag was already trending…I wouldn't have seen my friend Lizz's tweet:

    Aaaaaaand, then I was all like…OH YEAH, THAT'S RIGHT… it's August 1st…oh and hey…maybe I'll try NaBloPoMo-ing it, again…so, here we are.

    Long story, short: welcome to my brain! And this is the part where you should begin to feel really, really lucky that you don't HAVE to live with me, or my brain.

    [sound of crickets, running for the backdoor]

    On the OTHER other hand: can we all just agree that being "organized" is totally a subjective term and…SQUIRREL?!?!?!

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     I'm NaBloPoMo-ing it this month, feel free to check out what I've NaBloPoMo-ed, so far. Oh and just so you know, I'm unplugging on weekends and going blog free, because family time is also very…SQUIRREL!!!