This Full House Archive

Tag: Liz Thompson

#BlogHer14: A puffy-eyed view of the real people behind the power strips and surge protectors.

It was exactly one week ago today, after boarding the first of two flights it would take for me to get to the 10th Anniversary BlogHer Conference in San Jose (because California is about as far away as you can get, from Jersey!), I thought I was going to vomit on my flip flops.

I blamed lack of sleep…a nervous stomach…finishing work well after my husband had fallen asleep…on the couch…for the last month…or two…with the dog…he also has a REAL nervous stomach…the dog, too.

This morning, after another unsuccessful night of readjusting to post-conference life, I read my first BlogHer '14 recap and felt that oh so familiar churning in the pit of my stomach.

Personally, one of my FAVORITE moments from this year's conference happened pretty quickly: the BlogHer '14 opening video: I am BlogHer, where bloggers show us what it means to be a community utilizing two of my favorite online mediums — in words and in pictures.

Sense of community, finding your tribe, being with your people — these catchphrases, in my opinion, are the very foundation of BlogHer and what organizers have continued to build on, the last 8 conferences I've attended, anyway.

Words are powerful, like that.

On the other hand: this is my 3rd conference actually working behind the scenes, so I feel it safe to say reading feedback that borders on personal and attacks the integrity of our work…(thanks for helping me with that sentence, Melisa)…well, excuse my Jersey…it's a friggin' punch in the gut.

Words have impact, like that.

On the OTHER other hand: what you may or may not know is many of the BlogHer team are bloggers and some of us have been a part of the blogging community for many years, too.

Many of us are also members of the BlogHer Ad Network; some of us have been from the very beginning **raises hand** and I'm pretty sure it's why I was hired in the first place — especially, when talking with brands about recruiting bloggers for their special events.

Blogging is complicated, like that.

Explaining the process wasn't always easy and there were mistakes made, for certain…(stupid Eventbrite!)…but now, misinformation is being tossed around like expletives on a hot summer night…(here, in Jersey anway!)…so, yeah, it's REAL tough not to take these sort of things to heart.

Moving on, it's no secret, rather than believing that there is a behind-the-scenes conspiracy…(that one is mine AND Melisa's)…that is meant to encourage a society based on exclusivity…trust me when I tell you, no there isn't.

These are real people…trying to do a good job…and, more importantly, do right by their community.

after visiting each and every conference attendee's blog and social media accounts, you guys sure can write about a lot of stuff.

Oh, and she probably looks a lot like this: still in pajamas, all glassy-eyed, wearing a matching set of heavy eye baggage and complimentary stress zits on her chin…YO!!!

©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!

July 30, 2014
Have you seen this scary man/woman?
this full house, forever ago

It’s been 2 years since we’ve had kids roaming the halls of the elementary school; wondering how they can get out of going to gym class (mostly the girls) or losing track of time on their way back from the bathroom (probably my son) and just where in the heck DID they put down their lunch bags (ALL of them) or coats (my son, again) seriously?!?

Hint: claim cramps, it’s on the kitchen table, and there’s a bit of comfort that goes along with my believing there are warm and toasty kids out there, who are probably still wearing my son’s coats.

Aaaaanyway, although my husband and I do NOT miss the daily grind of school drop-offs and pick-ups, there’s a calm sort of “Yeah, we’ve got teens and haven’t burned-out all of our gray cells, YET” sort of feeling that goes along with raising older kids.

Somethings I do miss:
- Sitting outside at the school playground
- For at least a few minutes, every day
- Waiting for the kids to burn off some steam
- While I go through their backpacks
- Finding little drawings of the most random stuff imaginable
- Seriously, I don’t EVER remember inviting a five-armed alien, with big orange eyes and three heads, to dinner
- Although, it was probably meant to be a picture of me
- My kids draw good
Then there would be this guy. His pants were always too short, his shoes sometimes didn’t match and he always seemed to be arguing with someone, who wasn’t actually really there, and it used to scare the kids to hear him holler at…well…no one.

Quite frankly, me too.

Not because I was afraid he was going to hurt us (okay, with four kids hanging onto every one of my body parts within their reach, maybe a little), but because he always seemed to be so…you know…angry.

Years passed, our kids started taking the bus to their schools, but we still sometimes saw “the scary man” walk by the front of our house — same too short pants and mismatched shoes.

Fast forward to this morning: we ran out of milk. Okay, so in the large scope of things, not a really big deal. Unless, you’ve only had one cup of coffee and cannot…and I mean NOT…function properly without at least one more cup of coffee, like me.

I asked my oldest daughter if she’d mind driving down to the corner to grab a gallon, but she was running late for work….GASP!!!!….not so much because she was running late for work (honestly, I’d be checking for pods in the crawl space, if she wasn’t), but it meant that I would have to go down to the corner and get my own danged milk….GASP!!!!

Long story, short: my car isn’t feeling very well, at the moment (because the washing machine is broken and the car has sympathy pains, OF COURSE!) so I decided to walk and, as it often times happens when I am alone, I started talking to myself:
- A friggin’ second cup of coffee
- Is all I want, dammit
- Stupid car
- Dumbass washing machine
- Daaaaang, but it’s too hot for this sweatshirt
- Gah, BOOB SWEAT!!!!
- Probably be ALL out of milk, anyways
- I meant the store, NOT my boobs
- Because those puppies have been empty FOR YEARS!!!
- SNORT
- That’s what SHE said
Aaaaaand, then it hit me, like a dried-up boob upside the head: all those poor people driving by, as I’m literally arguing with myself, I must look like a fright. Then I glanced down at my feet.

enough said

You know, I haven’t seen the scary man in a while. Gosh, but I hope he’s okay.

©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!
June 20, 2014
Another Vlog Tutorial: How NOT to Talk to Teenagers
Working in social media, I get to watch a lot of "how to" videos (YES, it's a job!) and I have learned some really interesting stuff along the way: like, how some parenting sites can make raising teens (and tweens) sound sooooooo…I don't know…wash, rinse and repeat.

So, I was undermining my teens' privacy the other day and started thinking to myself; you know, maybe it would be a whole lot easier if someone showed me what NOT to do…and…HEY!!!!…wait a minute…I can do that!!!

So, I present to you, the second in a series of "how NOT to" vlogs.

A few post-production notes:
- I am, and have NEVER even claimed to be, in no way, shape or form a parenting expert…clearly.
- If, however, by posting these silly little videos, I can make you feel even just a little better about your parenting skills, then my job here is done.
- That being said, do NOT try this at home, I am a professional dork.
- My husband, kids and even the dog know and they seem to be okay wit-it.
- I also realize that the audio does not match the video.
- You've just witnessed a professional dork "workin-it".
- With SUPER heavy duty and totally teen-induced eye baggage, even.
- Wil Wheaton is awesome.
© 2003 – 2013 This Full House

New and improved with a fan page on Facebook and everything!
May 15, 2013
Tell Them About My Name

My kids love hearing the stories behind their namesakes and each still pretty much like their given names, except for our youngest: while playing a name game at a friend's baby shower, Hope insisted she wanted to be called Robin.

"How come my name doesn't start with a H, like the girls?"

For two reasons: naming your children with the same letter sounds harmless enough, until you try hollering for one of them, and can't seem to remember their names, without sounding like an idiot…each and every blessed time…because, I'm smart like that.

There is also a pretty neat and totally goosebump-worthy story behind the reason why we chose to name our son, Glen.

One of my husband Garth's (not his real name) earliest childhood memories was from the summer when he was about 4 years-old: he fell into a rose bush, ten times his size (as he remembers it) when a really big boy from the neighborhood ran over and, without hesitation reached in through the thorns, lifted him out, brushed him off and then walked him home.

The really big boy was a 19-year old, his name was Glen Bates — a few months later, he was killed in Vietnam.

But wait, my story is about to get a whole lot goosebump-ier.

(more…)

April 29, 2013
Our Mother/Daughter Weekend, Gone Ugly Cry

I feel extremely lucky to have experienced (what I consider to be) once-in-a-lifetime type moments, via my little corner of the internets and feel very blessed to have a strong online network of friends and peers (yes, they know about it!) most especially, when dissing them during the Type-A Advanced blogging conference in Philadelphia to spend the rest of the weekend, with my oldest daughter.

it's our first mother/daughter weekend away, can you tell?!?

While my friends Amy Clark and Jo-Lynne Shane fed my inner-squirrel…I mean, what I meant to say was…encouraged my love of Pinterest (heh) and Maria Bailey had me pretty much convinced that I really do need to improve my vlogging skills (or lack thereof), my oldest spent the day taking herself on a walking tour of Philadelphia.

We've been to Philadelphia as a family, but it's been a while since our last visit and this time I did not have to worry about maneuvering through the crowds…with a stroller…yeah, it's been a looooong while.

Later, Holly confessed that she was also much more relaxed, not having to worry about keeping an eye on her siblings and, well, she is (and always has been) more like a mother to them…than I am…apparently, I don't have a very good inside voice OR follow cross-at-the-crosswalk-type rules, very well, either.

Kid is a tyrant, I tell ya!

Even later, while I was checking in at work during a break in between sessions, Holly limped back into our hotel room, and, well, The Franklin Institute is about a 50 minute walk from Independence Hall…one way…just so you know.

I know what you're thinking (maybe), but she didn't want to spend money on a taxi, even though she was wearing the wrong shoes, especially for such a looooooooong walk, and, well, I wonder where she gets THAT from?!?

[face palm]

Even later still, I got a text from Holly: poolside 😀

I texted her back, asking if the water was warm: no 🙁

It was an indoor pool, but the hotel had just opened it up the day before, so 🙁 indeed.

Then, the conference came to a close, I headed out to spend the rest of the afternoon exploring Philadelphia with my kid.

We are both BIG fans of early-American history — not to mention historical romance novels – and had LOTS of fun pretending to walk in Poppy Hathaway's unconventional shoes…along the grounds belonging to the roguishly-handsome entrepreneur, Harry Rutledge…an American-born enigmatic hotel owner in London and inventor with wealth, power, and a dangerous hidden life…aaaaaaand…ummmmmmm…what, not a big fan of Lisa Kleypas, eh?

Right. Soooooo, then we got hungry.

left: limoncello and prosecco w/strawberries and mint; upper right: cured meat and cheese platter; lower right: warm pear, cranberry, walnut and gorgonzola salad.

Aaaaaaand, boy did we eat! EVER!!! The great thing about visiting Philadelphia (or any metro-area city, really) is, of course, the food and we found a little hidden treasure in Pizzicato located in Olde City.

mother/daughter weekends: this is how we do it.

Then came the moment we'd BOTH been waiting for: getting back to the hotel, ordering dessert and a movie in, where we cried the ugly cry and blew through an entire box of tissues.

"I love…[snort-snort]…the relationship we have…[choke-choke]…and that we could…[gasp-gasp]…do this, together…[choke-choke]…Mom."

Aaaaaand, considering the fact that she knows, that I know, that she knows, I am a total dork (we're BOTH okay wit-it) that right there, my friends, is my MOST favorite part of this ENTIRE weekend and totally worth the over-inflated price of an in-room movie…YO!!!

[lump, meet throat]

On the way home, I asked Holly what she enjoyed most about our weekend away?

[one beat, two beats]

"Taking a nice, long, hot bath WITHOUT having to worry about someone knocking on the door OR the hot water running out."

Yep, she's my kid a'ight 🙂 She's gonna be a really great mom, one day, don'tcha think?!?

© 2003 – 2013 This Full House

New and improved with a fan page on Facebook and everything!

April 23, 2013
How To Do Make Up Wrong, In 5 Minutes or Less
Working in social media, I get to watch a lot of "how to" videos (YES, it's a job!) and I have learned some really interesting stuff along the way: like, how some beauty bloggers can make putting on their make up look soooooo easy.

So, I was over-tweezing my eyebrows the other day and started thinking to myself; you know, maybe it would be a whole lot easier if someone showed me what NOT to do…and…HEY!!!!…wait a minute…I can do that!!!

So, I present to you, the first in a series of "how NOT to" vlogs.

A few post-production notes:
- I realize that, even after editing (which, for a dork like me, is quite an amazing feat, in and of itself, actually!) the video ran 18 seconds long and, if you sat through the ENTIRE 5 minutes and 18 seconds, well, then I love you MORE than my tweezers!
- For that bitch-slapped look: you heard it here FIRST folks.
- Being fans of beauty bloggers, I gave my teens a heads up of my "how NOT to" intentions, they're down wit-it.
- As long as I do NOT tag them on Facebook or Twitter.
- No, I do NOT blame them.
- Yes, I know, so I spelled caterpillar…phonetically…I live in Jersey…shuddup!!!
- I may or may not have had TOO MUCH coffee, already.
Aaaaand, did anyone ever tell you how pretty you look?!? Today, most especially 🙂

© 2003 – 2013 This Full House

New and improved with a fan page on Facebook and everything!
April 12, 2013
Middle School Drop-Off, Dropout

Get thee to the bus ON TIME!!!

With multiple kids in school for the last thirteen years, we are at that point in our lives when — rather than referring to pregnancies as a timeline — my husband, Garth (not his real name) and I are beginning rely on graduations to help us remember stuff.

Don't even get me started on the years when we had kids attending four different schools (redistricting, halfway through, yeah, THAT was fun!) and, well, a large chunk of that time is still a little fuzzy.

I do, however, remember spending at least two hours…every day…either dropping off or picking kids up from school and a bulk of that time was spent witnessing/experiencing carpool lane ashattery of epic proportions.

Entering middle school: I waved each of my kids off to the bus stop and may or may not have reinacted the entire first scene of the Sound of Music…four times.

[cue heavenly ray of light]

Unless, my two youngest miss the school bus and…HOLY HANNAH MONTANA…I thought the elementary schools were bad?!?

Middle school drop-offs are a whole OTHER level of hell.

Then my oldest started driving and offered to help out getting her siblings to school on the days they miss the bus.

[cue choir of angels]

Until this morning when, upon entering the seventh level of hell, where everyone else's kid also seemed to be running late, she came home and then proceeded to blow a gasket.

"How did you NOT go insane?"

Yeah…

"How did you NOT get into a car crash?"

…um…

"Seriously, the way THOSE people drive?"

…I…

"I can't believe you did THAT for ALL those years?"

…know.

"Seriously???"

I showed her a couple…HUNDRED…previous blog posts to, you know, back me up.

"Well, g'head and blog this then: CARPOOLING SUCKS, I QUIT!!!"

Which reminds me, my son is graduating 8th grade. He'll be a "walker" again in high school (bet you didn't know hell actually had 8 levels, huh?!?) AND first period begins at 7:25 a.m.

[face palm]

Well, it WAS nice while it lasted…YO!!!

© 2003 – 2013 This Full House

New and improved with a fan page on Facebook and everything!

April 10, 2013
Who Knew Flashcards Could Be Soooo Funny?!?
The 50 nifty, funny states.

With all the technology available at their fingertips (even our school district started going paperless, two years ago) it is sort of refreshing to see my kids revert to using low-tech, old school study tools.

For example: making up their own vocabulary flashcards.

What's so funny about vocabulary, or flashcards, you ask?!? Absolutely nothing, I say. Unless, I am helping my youngest study for a BIG test on naming the capitals of all 50 states, using flashcards she made up with special keywords (in parentheses) to help her remember and then acts all surprised when I start laughing…real hard…which made it EVEN funnier.

Okay, fine, I'll show you. This is some of what comes to the mind, when identifying the capital city of each state, to my 11 year-old:
- Arkansas: (Arken saw a _______) little rock and it was good.
- California: (Sock sack) don't remember the reasoning behind this one and I sort of don't want to, either.
- Georgia: (Real housewives) SNORT!!!
- Kansas: (Peek at toes) clearly, they're a bunch of toe-peek-ahs, her Jersey is showing.
- Michigan: (I like to sing) lan'sakes, so do I 🙂
- Minnesota: (Holy) sort of like St. Nicholas, only not.
- New Mexico: (Christmas) speaking of Santa, must be his favorite vacation spot.
- Ohio: (Found America) still up for debate, but we'll go with it.
- New Hampshire: (Another word for wire) took me a while to figure this one out, shuddup.
- North Carolina: (Really?) yes, raleigh.
- Virginia: (Bill Gates) he is rich…mon…duh.
Aaaaaand, the one that made me laugh-snort:
- Alaska: (I know) enough said!
[sound of crickets, chirping]

Clearly, I have the sense of humor of an 11 year-old and who knew people in Alaska speak so funny?!?

© 2003 – 2013 This Full House

New and improved: with a fan page on Facebook and everything!
April 5, 2013
Social Media for Good: Blood, Sweat & Brinner!

I started blogging back in 2003 and, thinking back on it now, there weren’t many people in my real life who knew or understood why in the heck I would even consider sharing personal stories, “on the internet”.

Flash-forward 10 years: nearly everyone I know is “on the internet” (including my own father, hey Apu!) doing pretty much the same thing — connecting with each other and sharing information through social media channels like Facebook, Instagram and Pinterest — not to mention, sharing stuff about their kids.

My kids have grown accustomed to hearing me go on…and on…and on…really, I could go on…fuh-evuh…about using their social media powers for good.

Aaaaaand, then my middle girl (she’s 17) tells me her classmates are organizing an evening blood drive at a local community church over spring break and, well, how cool would it be if we help serve the folks donating blood breakfast for dinner (or brinner)?!?

(more…)

April 1, 2013
Sleeping Quadruple in a Sofa Bed

CONFESSION: I have this thing about sleeping, in the dark. I know, considering humans are not generally classified as being nocturnal, sucks for me, right?!?

It's like my internal clock crossed wires (or something) because, at the end of the day, no matter how physically tired or mentally exhausted I may be (and let me tell you, raising 3 teens and my youngest a teen by default, I totally be!) as soon as the light goes out…[sound of a pin, dropping]…my senses automatically kick into…HOLY CRAP!!!!…WHAT THE HECK WAS THAT?!?

No, my husband is NOT very happy about it.

In fact, we adopted our first cat (a few months after we were married) because Garth (not his real name) was leaving on a business trip for several days; thinking that a pet would, at the very least, keep me company and, well, he was a very affectionate cat.

Still, old ghosts can be REAL hard to kill (right?!?) and we were both a little surprised to find that it worked: along with the butcher knife I accidentally left under my husband's pillow, which he discovered on his first night back.

Thankfully, with his hand (not his head) and by its handle. True story.

[sound of crickets, chirping]

Aaaaaanywaaaaay, I've been traveling out-of-state and staying in a two-bedroom condo, with two separate floors, for a few nights: which, in my mind, is tantamount to broadcasting fresh meat to every zombie within earshot.

The first night, I slept in the living room: without bothering to open the sleeper sofa, because jumping off and out is…you know…THAT much quicker.

The second night, I opened the sleeper sofa: because I actually didn't really realize it opened, until now…don't judge.

By the third night, I was absolutely exhausted: because sleeper sofas can be super-uncomfortable (especially, when you are up all night, with a bad back and stacking cushions high enough to be able to watch The Golden Girls marathon on television) and keeping an ear out for zombies is hard work…YO!!!

From left to right: my sorry ass, Corine, Carol and Jen

Last night: lucky for me, I also happened to be traveling with 3 very good friends who did NOT think twice about babysitting my sorry ass AND calling it a pajama party…instead.

With friends like this, who needs a butcher knife?!?

©2003 – 2013 This Full House

P.S. Did YOU know that Blanche got married?!?

P.P.S. Never mind.

March 20, 2013