Please feel free to visit with me over at my Gone Shopping blog and read more about: why I can't help but feel that life would be a little easier if Learning From Our Mistakes-101 were a requirement, rather than an elective…for parents, too…when you have time, of course.
© 2003 – 2012 This Full House
My friend Diana wrote a wonderful blog post on the acceptance of messes (feeling pride in tending to her less than perfect garden) and, well, for me, hers is such a timely story.
My parents always kept a vegetable garden. Growing up in an urban area, surrounded by ironworks, factories, several blocks of shared housing, warranting little more than a quick glance, before the traffic light changes, we were one of the few families to do so, in our neighborhood, anyway.
Still, their vegetables were always so beautiful and, my kids spent hours playing in their green house, when they were little.
Small as it was, our backyard became an oasis and, from the moment you walked through the rose arbor, you’d forget your troubles, become deaf to all the noise outside the garden gate and, well, it was REAL nice to feel privy to that sort of peace, even for just a little while.
Then, my husband Garth (not his real name) and I began looking for a house and, as small (and full) as it is, right now, I am very, very thankful for our REAL big backyard, too.
My parents surprised us, that first year, by planting a vegetable garden, while we were away (I forget where, or why) and, well, life was good.
18 years, 4 kids, 3 cats, 1 Doofus-Dawg and a myriad of OTHER things that I just don’t even want to, you know, think about, right now (maybe later) and the garden, well, this is the first summer I have considered “not dealing with it,” either and, you know what?
I did, anyway. Because, as small and overcrowded with weeds as my vegetable garden is, right now, I could not imagine a summer without being able to go outside and, you know, dig in the dirt.
Aaaaand, in the process, perhaps even weed out my mommy brain, just a little, you know?
Thanks SO MUCH for the reminder, Diana.
© 2003 – 2011 This Full House
I’ve been spring cleaning the garage (okay, for the last 15 years, but who’s counting?) and, as it turns out, I’m also a little behind on updating my kids’ baby books.
This is where you ask me, “So, how far behind are you?”
Seems, my last entry was in 2002, when my youngest daughter took her first steps at 10 months-old.
Hope is turning 10 years-old, in June.
However, I started blogging in 2003 and have been consistently posting my family’s milestones, since then, so, there’s that, right?
[sound of crickets chirping]
Like, yesterday was my husband, Garth’s (not his real name) birthday, just don’t ask me which one (I quit counting sometime around 2004) since, you know, in the end, it’s not the years that count, it’s the mileage, right?
[welcome to cricketcon'11]
So, while Garth (not his real name) and I were out trolling our favorite garden center, yesterday (stupid rain) Hope made this birthday card for her father — HAH!
Our 12-year-old son made him this one and not only does he have his father’s sense of humor (28 my left foot!) Glen also appreciates the value of money and its depreciating effects on one’s bank account…DAMMIT.
My 15-year-old, however, seems to have inherited her Hungarian grandmother’s affinity for making people cry…especially, on their birthday.
My 17-year-old daughter drew this brilliant caricature of her father (HAH!) and, now that I blogged about it, I can reflect back and remember what my husband looks like (stupid extended banking hours) also, after uploading the pic, I just noticed that she signs her name to look like a butterfly, too.
I just love that!
“Honey, do you remember when we bought the water heater?”
In fact, I recently found myself referring back to my blog’s archives for non-fluff and totally tax related purposes, only.
“Uh, no, but…wait…I blogged about it…um…okay…back in 2009!”
Too bad my husband, Garth (not his real name) didn’t ask me that question, last year, right?
Stupid crickets!
© 2003 – 2011 This Full House
My mom and I were talking and both happened to glance outside her kitchen window and watched, as my 9 year-old tried to get her 15 year-old sister, who was reading a book at the time, to play with her.
Judging by her stomping off and kicking her brother’s scooter, it was pretty clear to the both of us that her attempts were, you know, unsuccessful.
“I think she caught us looking.”
Because, the kid quickly turned and thought better about leaving the scooter in the middle of the cul-de-sac.
“She’s going to kill me, that one is.”
Okay, I know, yes I was being overly dramatic (sort of) but, after 17 years of raising kids (and killer dust bunnies) I’m pretty tired at this point in the game.
Does it show?
I fully expect that they (i.e. non-parental units living in my house) will figure this out, soon enough, especially once I finally get those iron bars mounted to their bedroom window(s).
“It’s never easy, no matter how old your kids get.”
My mother was right, of course (just like with most other things, as I’ve learned over the years) I swear, she’s got this sixth sense about her.
It’s like the woman knows what I’m thinking, or, at least, what she thinks I need to hear.
“Nope, you never stop being a parent.”
How DOES she DO that?
Then, it hit me (as the most obvious things tend to do) like a smack to the forehead.
“Moooooooom, can you PLEASE do something about her?”
It’s called validation and pretty much the reason why I started contributing to the blogging community, almost 8 years ago, in the first place.
“What would you suggest…hanging…crucifixion?”
My 15-year-old suggested that a burning at the stake to be more than sufficient.
Contrary to the latest blogging statistics and demographics, I chose to go outside and scooter, instead!
“Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!”
Un-motorized, even.
[sound of crickets]
Silly mom bloggers.
Edited to Add: I drew the Mom Blogging Pain Scale (not bad, eh?) but, the photo was taken by my 15 year-old and she doesn’t know that I used it (yet) but, she will be okay with it, once she sees that I gave her full credit.
[heavy sigh]
Blogging used to be a lot easier, you know?
© 2003 – 2011 This Full House
Or, what’s another word for not so gently used?
Aaaaanyway, I was SO EXCITED about winning the 2011 HGTV Dream Home — YES, I KNOW!!! — the one in beautiful Stowe, VT, SO EXCITING, right???
Until, some other guy won it (JERK!) okay, not really.
The winner is a stay-at-home dad, lives somewhere near Chicago, with a growing family and a small house, too.
Aaaaand they used to live in Jersey, so YAY (sort of!) although, I would have been much, MUCH more, you know, visibly excited.
Does no one jump up and down, or do the happy dance, anymore?
Every year. The same thing. I’ve had to curse someone out…for winning, MY HOUSE…but, I’m slowly getting over myself.
Frankly, there are folks out there who would love to be able to live in a house…let alone, own one…broken as ours is.
At the end of the day, my kids call it home and, well, our house has got good bones.
In fact, I wrote a post, 3 years ago, about the 13 things I haven’t managed to break…YET!!!
So, I thought it would be sort of fun to revisit them and see if, you know, stuff still works.
Blogged 2008: My beloved blow dryer I’ve had it so long, I don’t remember when I bought it, and I believe that blow dryers – sort of like, dogs – begin to take on the characteristics of their human counterparts.
TODAY: It’s a little dinged and gets overheated, sometimes (you’re welcome!) but it still works!!!
BLOGGED 2008: G.G.’s table. My mother-in-law gave us this telephone table. It belonged to her mother.
TODAY: Still have the itty-bitty chair, too, but I’ve since moved the violet to the kitchen (yes, it’s STILL alive…see?) because, this one time, during summer camp, I forgot to water it…then, over-watered it…and, well, you can’t see the BIG old water stain…can you?
BLOGGED 2008: Mr. Dyson’s Opus. What, doesn’t everyone name their housekeeping buddies? Oh, dear Mr. Dyson, how I love this vacuum cleaner.
TODAY: We set a place for him at the kitchen table.
BLOGGED 2008: G.G.’s Christmas Cactus. Another gift from my mother-in-law (because, she must really, really like me) this is a cutting from her father’s Christmas Cactus and is about a bazillion years old.
TODAY: It FINALLY bloomed one, lonely, little flower (I even blogged a picture of it, just last week) but, the cat ate it…damnit!
BLOGGED 2008: The Refrigerator. Yes, it’s still running and the very first appliance purchased for the house, when we moved in 15 years ago.
TODAY: 3 years and 2 refrigerators, later (dang, but some appliances break easy) we had to move the new one to the other side of the kitchen. I imagine we’ll need a new house for the next one…sheesh!
BLOGGED 2008: Creeping Charlie. Charlie’s not very happy with me, at the moment. Don’t know why, though. He’s got the whole corner, to himself.
TODAY: You are very sadly missed, Charlie.
BLOGGED 2008: China cabinet filled with pretties from Hungary. Because, I keep them ALL behind glass and Garth (not his real name) cleans it…’nuf said.
TODAY: He doesn’t clean it, anymore, either and I just tell everyone that it’s for philanthropic reasons, as we’re currently housing a colony of dust bunnies, rent free.
BLOGGED 2008: Sir Fig Newton. Some of my best childhood memories are from trips visiting family in Hungary and picking fresh figs from my Uncle’s tree. It was HUGE and had a rope swing hanging from one of its branches. This one, not so much. I’ve always wanted a fig tree and finally bought a young plant, last spring.
TODAY: I planted it in our backyard, last summer. Then, it snowed…and snowed…and snowed…and, well, you know…it’s been a real tough winter…but, yes…it is STILL alive…that’s right…because, it’s a Jersey fig, bay-bee!
BLOGGED 2008: The cookie jar. We received this cookie jar on our wedding day…GULP…nearly 18 years ago. Yes, it’s still in one piece. Nope, not even a chip. I’m just as surprised as you are, believe me. After 4 kids, 2 cats…etc…etc…yep, this little jar has seen a LOT of action!
TODAY: Going on 21 years now and, well, none of us need to be eating any more danged cookies. So, I hid it in my pretend pantry…shhhhhh, but don’t tell Garth (not his real name) he doesn’t need to know…in fact, feel free to grab a cookie, or 20!!!
BLOGGED 2008: My sneakers. I bought these when The Boy started kindergarten and, trust me, they have seen a LOT of mileage. When doofus dog sees me putting these puppies on, he knows, it means maybe…just maybe…we are FINALLY going out for a walk!
TODAY: He’s just too danged tired to even care what I’m wearing, me either!
BLOGGED 2008: These are MY geraniums. All of these pots are from cuttings off of a plant I received after Thing One was born, 14 years ago.
TODAY: They’ve continued to bloom…more and more, every year…me, too.
Aaaand, lastly…but, certainly not least-ly…the Doofus-Dog. He’s lucky I haven’t killed him, yet.
TODAY: What, with that face? Besides, his faith in me is virtually unbreakable…no matter how much I may curse him…out loud.
Besides, if I really DID win the HGTV Dream Home, then, my friends, this post would never have happened.
[sound of crickets chirping]
Stupid HGTV!!!
© 2003 – 2011 This Full House
I love this time of year, here in on the Jersey coast, when my kids and I feel very lucky to have quick access to some of the prettiest beaches, like our favorite at the Gateway National Recreation Area in Sandy Hook, NJ.
The parking lot fills up pretty quick in the summer. Friday, however, was the perfect day to celebrate all the good things that living in a shore town has to offer.
Like, exploring the jetty.
Or, playing chicken with the breakwater.
Getting lost, for hours, hunting for sea glass and mermaid toe nails.
Having the beach, all to ourselves, is a luxury and a perfect time for private contemplation.
Aaaand, much silliness.
Yes, Friday was a good day. In fact, seeing how this weekend is going, I'm still there…lalalalalalalalala!
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 Flickr photostream.
© 2003 – 2011 This Full House
Freshly-Brewed Review & Also Sharing: Staples MiniMate Shredder
I have a confession to make. Ready? Here it goes:
I love grocery shopping!
Weird thing (besides my loving grocery shopping) is I never used to like it and would much rather push an old-fashioned reel lawn mower through a field of sticky balls than have to spend half the day in a supermarket.
Now that my kids are older, well, I cannot run out of the house, or get to the grocery store, fast enough and not just because they eat stuff, all gone, without even being asked to, either.
"Where you going?"
It's nice to have kids old enough to not have to, or necessarily even want, to come with me, even if it's just to the grocery store, really it is.
"Food shopping."
Or, at least I thought.
"I want to come."
[heavy sigh]
"Me, too!"
Aaaand, not because they really, really, like me, either (trust me, I live with me, I know) still, I'm thinking, it's nice outside, the sun is shining, the grass is, uh, really wet, meh, why not, right?
Later.
"Here…why don't you guys go and buy a donut, or something!"
[eyes go wide]
"Don't worry, I'll find you."
The shopping trip was taking much longer than I expected — not to mention, more expensive by the minute — and, well, I just needed a moment to regroup and build up enough strength to get through the meat aisle.
"Can we have tacos, tonight?"
Another thing about having older kids…eventually, they WILL find you…first…no matter how hard you try to hide.
"Oh, WOW, not for what they want for their chopped meat!"
Good thing my kids like pasta, a lot.
"I'll be right back!"
My youngest (she's 9) has this habit of not having to explain herself, to me, because, clearly, I am psychic.
"I'll go with her!"
Ah, the joys of older kids.
"Okay, I'm almost done here."
Much later.
"I'm sorry, mom, but I couldn't stop her in time."
Oh, and one more thing about older kids, they sort of just show up, out of nowhere, and love to give me mini-heart attacks.
"What did you do?"
I put the last of the bags into our cart, when the child lifts her chin up from off her chest, bites her lower lip and announces in a clear voice, that she used the change from Dunkin' Donuts to buy one of those scratch-off lottery tickets.
"HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW IT'S ILLEGAL!"
Honestly, I didn't know whether to laugh, or cry.
I mean, the lottery vending machine was right next to Redbox, which was right next to the bubble gum machines and, well, I guess the poor kid just really, really wanted tacos for dinner.
"She was too short to see the sign about being 18 and nobody was stopping her, either, mom."
That's because the kid was being real quiet about it and nobody ever notices a quiet kid, right?
Scratch. Scratch. Scratch.
"Good news is, no one is going to jail."
[eyes go wide]
"What's the bad news, mommy?"
[tosses ticket into trash bin]
"Looks like we're having pasta tonight!"
Stupid grocery shopping, dumbass economy!
© 2003 – 2011 This Full House
This weekend, we were invited to stay with dear friends in Cape May where the kids and I got to hike through, up and over perhaps some of the biggest sand dunes, here, in Jersey!
The view from the top was breath-taking and totally worth the burning thighs and near-to-exploding ovaries (stupid midlife!) and, yet, the day was filled with bittersweet moments of regret, too.
I was sorry that my husband had to work (someone has too, right?) and missed our ode to Ralph Macchio.
Good thing my 15yo takes awesome photographs (not to mention, gives good glare) and, well, maybe I should just let her keep the frigalicious camera [one beat, two beats] naaaaah, I mean, really, learning how to share stuff is what we do best, here at Casa de Sticky Floors and Crunchy Feet.
This capture of my youngest daughter, however, made me realize just how GROWN these kids insist on, you know, growing.
Me, too. UGH! Then again, we hiked 4 miles on this day. Besides, after 17 years of raising kids and killer dust bunnies, well, life has a way of catching up on a person, everywhere.
Sort of like this cool light bulb I found; a little grazed on top and all rusty on the bottom (you’re welcome!)
Yes, alright, I admit it, I’m old(ish) slightly overdone and perhaps a wee bit passed my freshness date, than your average blogging mom…I mean.
[borrows glare from 15yo]
I am, however, also very happy (AM SO!) especially, since the kids and I seem to be able to enjoy each others company.
Dare I say, even a little more, now, than when they were babies, maybe, because I’m not so worried about counting heads, or chasing after them, at the beach?
Aaaaand, okay, maybe my baby days ARE over (light bulb, rusted) but, my job, here, is far from done, my friend, and well, I’m just glad I remembered to pack my comfy sneakers.
And, maybe a snack…also, a cell phone…so, I can google the nearest bathroom…stupid beach, dumbass bladder!
© 2003 – 2011 This Full House
If you were to ask me to sum up this entire winter, using just one color, I would paint you a less than prettiful picture and describe the feeling as being similar to the consistency of pea soup.
Seems like we’ve had a sick kid in the house, every weekend, since Christmas break and maybe because, you know…we have…had a sick kid…in the house…since Christmas break.
This week, it was my youngest’s turn (she’s 9) which, considering she is the youngest (i.e. been there, done that, easily entertained) a case of strep throat doesn’t sound like such a big deal, really.
Unless, she is the kid who NEVER gets sick.
Aaaand, then, she’ll spike fevers (always at night) and nearly drown in her own mucus (ditto) thick enough to plaster the walls, twice, to the extent where I am actually afraid of leaving her alone, or even bother with getting dressed.
“I’m bored!”
“Why don’t you paint something?”
“But, I can’t find a paint brush.”
Then, finally, a glimpse of normality and, well, although our lives are not always perfect (okay, more like never) and I won’t be voted the bestest, most craftiest mom, anytime soon (if, ever) I can at least try and focus on the beauty of simple, little things, again, or today, anyways.
Like, being thankful that I did NOT throw away that old glass vase…afterall.
Or, this one. Even if we still can’t find a dagnab paint brush, to save my gosh-darned life…dagnabit!
Gee, I wonder what Martha Stewart would do?
© 2003 – 2011 This Full House
I have trouble leaving voicemails….psssst, this is the part where you know, that I know, that you know, I'm a total dork, but act surprised, anyway….because, I'm always either losing my place, or start rambling in run-on sentences (shuddup!) insuring that the recipient will most likely never call me back and perhaps even unfriend me on Facebook, or worse, totally ignore me on Twitter.
[sound of crickets]
Social media can make some folks seem, I dunno, downright anti-social, sometimes, right?
Aaaaaaanyway, there I was, day 5 of hanging out on the couch with my 9 year-old, holding her hair back while she hocked up goobers of mass destruction (you're welcome!) when I heard my cell phone ringing, causing yet ANOTHER parenting dilemma.
Dooooooooooooooooooo I:
A) Answer my cell phone, because, you know, it could be HGTV calling about my new dream home, or the Queen (woman never fails to call at the WORST possible times) most likely, it's my dear friend Melisa (with one S) for whom I would most definitely drop a call from the Queen (herself!) oh, she makes me laugh so (I mean, Melisa, not the Queen, but you knew that already, right?)
B) Let it go to voicemail?
NOBRAINER! Besides, most every parent knows that hocking goobers of mass destruction is way different than fielding puke of projectile proportions…yes?
Who knew that sitting on the couch, for 5 days, with a feverish kid, would atrophy one's muscles to the point of total skeletal fail?
"Going down!"
Also, consuming unusual amounts of caffeine will cause some folks to flail their working limbs and holler stuff you'd hear in an elevator….or Charlie Sheen's hotel room….whatever….bet you didn't know that either, huh?
Turns out, it was Melisa (dangit!) so, I called her back and tried my best to leave a voicemail. Really, I did.
"[snort] Sorry [snort] but, you had to see me just now [snort] GOING DOWN! [uncontrollable laughter] then, she puked on the couch [snort] made her laugh so hard [choking back tears] gotta go [snort] it's Liz, by the way [deep breath] BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
As if she couldn't figure out it was me….or, Charlie Sheen's long lost twin sister….twice removed….whatever….Melisa did eventually call me back (silly woman) but, she hadn't listened to my voicemail, yet.
Soooooo, I repeated it, twice, and then she kindly suggested that perhaps it would be a good idea for me to, you know, lay off the coffee, for the remainder of the week.
Maybe so, maybe so, still, there's nothing like sharing a little laughter, between friends, aaaaand, yes, oh how we laughed and laughed.
[damned crickets are EVERYWHERE]
Sorta reminded me of this:
(Link) View more Voicemails Sound Clips and Attacking Old Ladies Sound Clips
[grin]
My work here is done. Go in pieces.
© 2003 – 2011 This Full House