This Full House Archive

Tag: new jersey mom bloggers

So, My Kid Passes Out While Visiting Grandpa at the Hospital & Other Stories of You NEVER Know, You Know?
She's a sassy lemur.

Sooooo, I'm in my dear, sweet friend Melisa's fancy-schmancy car headed to #BBSummit12, my husband calls me on my cell phone and after 4 kids AND 20+ years of marriage — not to mention, having spent a good portion of my oldest daughter's college tuition on repair bills in just the last month or so — I sort of figured it wasn't good news.

"Are you sitting down?"

Also, Garth (not his real name) knows I'm a fainter.

"I'm here in the hospital with Hope."

My oldest daughter took Hope and picked up Grandma to visit Grandpa in the hospital (he was admitted the night before and recovering from pneumonia) and at first I was all, like, okaaaaaaay, aaaaaaand??????

"Wait, okay, so why are YOU there again?"

Long story, short (you're welcome!) here's a quick run down of the events prior to my getting on the plane:
- Wednesday: car breaks down on the way home from visiting my mom and dad (it was 99 degrees out at the time, just so you know).
- Thursday: drop car at shop, rent another car so I can get oldest daughter to and from work; yes she can drive, no not a rental; go figure.
- Friday: car won't be ready for a few days; so I go extend rental and pray for winning lottery numbers (yeah, right!)
- Saturday/Sunday: oldest kid is scheduled to work, on this particular weekend, go figure.
- Monday: pick-up car, drop off rental and get some edible food in the house in preparation for the zombie apocalypse (just kidding, sort of!)
- Tuesday: Take oldest daughter to work (I know, the car is fixed, but I'm so NOT a big fan of tempting fate) get my haircut (STAT!) pick oldest daughter up from work and then think about the possibility of packing early, because…you know…you NEVER know, right?
- Wednesday: happen to glance at calendar and realize that I have a couple of writing deadlines, HOLY CRAP, tomorrow and just knew I should have packed early.
- Thursday: son wakes up with a temperature of 103.5 (UGH, again?!?) pediatrician's office is closing early for vacation (we've been keeping her busy) so, we spend next 3 hours at urgent care (I am NOT EVEN kidding!) my butt still hurts.
- Still Thursday: get a call while at urgent care with my son that FIL was being admitted to hospital and consider packing early as being highly overrated.
Now maybe you know why I was seriously second-guessing getting on a plane, the next day, or ever, in the first place, right?

Still. My son was responding to the antibiotics and my FIL was recovering nicely (thank goodness!) so, I got packing and was super-relieved when my plane finally landed…you know…on the ground…the right way…with me STILL on it…and everything.

"Hope took one look at Grandpa and passed out."

Sooooo, my poor husband, Garth (not his real name) spent the next 7 hours with Hope, texting me updates and generally keeping me from going CRAZY with worry or convincing me NOT to take part in any activities involving the use of sharp objects and/or heavy machinery.

"Remember when you passed out that one time taking Mama to the Hospital?"

True story. I rushed my mother to the hospital during a gallbladder attack, passed out in the bathroom, tore my head open and was admitted…at the same time she was…her for an emergency gallbladder surgery and me for a concussion.

"Good thing we were BOTH in the hospital when it happened, right Mommy?!?"

Yep…she's my kid, a'ight…and I'm seriously considering taping EVERYONE ELSE up in bubble wrap, while I'm at BlogHer, next month!

Then maybe investing in a couple of sage sticks, cleansing the house with bleach (straight-up!) and perhaps even hiring an exorcist or something. You know any?

© 2003 – 2012 This Full House
July 24, 2012
She Bangs, He Bangs, We All Bang A Uey!

I drove my SIL into Massachusetts (my husband's aunt has been very ill and recovering in a nursing home) for what turned out to be a last-minute, don't-worry-we'll-just-go-ahead-and-cash-in-those-reward-points, road trip and clocked in nearly 700 miles this weekend.

Boston: Old and New

The thing with last-minute, don't-worry-etc-etc-type, road trips is that there is NEVER enough time to do ALL the things I really would like to do, whenever we do get up there.

Boston: This Way and That

Or whenevah yah up thah (if you're from Massachusetts) considering most of my husband's family lives in and around the Boston area and, well, turns out Massachusetts is a pretty big state.

Boston: Water Feature

Still, my friend Sue and her family live about 90 minutes away from where we were staying (which is about 5 hours closer than usual, btw) and, well, it took ALL my strength to keep my husband's car from veering off and following signs to Cape Cod.

I was also too busy banging u-turns (to make a change in direction when driving, in Jersey) dang, but Massachusetts signs are so gosh-dahned confusing!

Not to mention, they most likely don't teach the "keep one car-length between you and the car in front of you" rule when switching lanes, or maybe people just "saht of fahghat that paht" of the driver's test.

Boston: Church (one of many!)

Aaaaanyway, it was difficult enough leaving the kids (and my husband) home this time, considering they just about divorced me when visiting with Sue…on my bloggy little road trip, last March.

The kids, I mean, not my husband.

Garth (not his real name) MADE me go (don't believe me, ask Sue, she'll tell you) still, I couldn't help but feel a little guilty.

Not this time, tho.

Long story, short (you're welcome) I don't know of any travel site(s) that lists "Consider visiting nursing homes" as a vacation destination: i.e. one of the saddest places on earth.

Boston: My kind of place.

Still, it was nice to be able to help my SIL show her aunt's family a little support, considering I was adopted as an honorary cousin (during a girl's weekend away on Cape Cod, btw) years before my husband and I hooked up, even.

Boston: The Old Court House

We decided to drive into Boston and do a little site-seeing with my niece.

Which, of course, meant I was too busy looking up, most of the time, rather than watch where I was walking (it's drivers AND walkers to the right, right?) and it was soon after I took a picture of Ben Franklin (a tribute to our founding fathers, right next to Starbucks, yo!) when I tripped over someone's bicycle.

"Have a nice trip?"

Gosh, but I love my SIL's sense of humor (sort of!) and what IS IT with these Massachusetts people, anyways?!?

The bicyclist was trying to help an elderly gentleman in a wheelchair from off of the curb and cross to the other side of the street and, well, good thing I was NOT thinking out loud (for once) right?!?

"Can we help?"

My SIL and I each extended an arm, he grabbed both.

"Hang on a minute!"

The wheelchair was mechanical, very heavy and three more pedestrians ran over, along with the doorman from the hotel a few doors down, to help.

"On three…"

We gently sat the man back down into his wheelchair, while the doorman stopped traffic and the bicyclist followed alongside, making sure he made it safely across the street to the adjacent more wheelchair accessible sidewalk.

"Thank you guys…"

We were all shaking hands.

"…some of these streets can be real annoying."

I empathized with the doorman and admitted to banging more than a couple of U-ies already.

"Yah from Bahston then?"

Heh, must have been the Uey (a.k.a. U-turn) that brought out the Bahston.

"No, we're from New Jersey."

[one beat, two beats]

"Sahm diff-rahns."

Clearly, we're not the only ones who can't seem to make a left turn to save our lives.

Moral of the Story: Deep down inside, people are good, even if they do drive like crap, or something like that.

It was a good trip.

© 2003 – 2012 This Full House

July 10, 2012
Before Social Media, Some of Us Would Use Our Pregnancies, As Timelines
Never being one to tempt fate…[pausing to knock on wood]…I am absolutely sure of very few things in life, like:
- We are all out of milk, eggs, cereal or bread (probably, all four).
- If there is a mosquito in the house, I will find it.
- I will have to either thank or apologize to my husband, at least once, every day.
- Not before the cat uses my stomach as a springboard and pounces on my husband's head sometime around 4 a.m.
- Someone will have forgotten to switch the laundry (most probably, me).
- I will snort at least once, at any given time, in a conversation.
Ohhhhhh…and that the water main in front of our house will break AND at the most inopportune time too!

Then something will happen to exacerbate the situation: like one of the three police officers, unlucky enough to pull duty on a Sunday afternoon at the beginning of a holiday week, drives through the river that is running through our street, which inadvertently buckles the pavement and creates a mini-geyser.

Finally, we will begin to see the humor (most probably, on Facebook):

Garth (NHRN) making lemonade (sort of ) by taking advantage of situation while adhering to state of water emergency.

I will blog, or share it on Instagram and misspell at least one word (stupid man-fingers!):

What 1:20 a.m. looks like when they ate ripping your front walk a new one. http://instagr.am/p/MkQUT0G4mg/

But, the one thing I am REAL positive about (mostly) is that there will be plenty of family and friends who are more than willing to help me remember it as…you know…not ALL that bad…really.

Not when there are folks out there STILL without power (did you hear, Momo's gone all Little House on the Prairie?) because, as one Twitter friend was kind enough to remind me: water is less important than power.

Having lost BOTH and turning Amish for 5 days last summer, I totally agree.

Aaaaaand then, if I'm REAL lucky, I will find at least one online friend (maybe even two) who is STILL awake and have the best gosh-darned virtual slumberless party ever.

Long live the Three Klutzketeers!!!

[sound of crickets, chirping]

If anybody needs me, I'll be right here…propped up against the kitchen table, waiting for the service people to show up to fix my dishwasher AND washer (both of which are FUBAR!) so, I can…you know…put ALL this water to good use…YO!

© 2003 – 2012 This Full House
July 2, 2012
On Pandemonium, Pneumonia and Piss-Poor Plumbing
If you were to ask me what pandemonium meant, B.C. (before children) I would have suggested that it sort of sounds like a digestive aid for pandas.

Panda. Ammonium. Get it?

[sound of crickets, chirping]

Beeeeeeeecawse, you see, although I had a weird sense of humor (okay, have) I still would NOT have fully understood what pandemonium meant (literally) and probably even spelled it incorrectly as pandamonium, anyway.

Then I had kids, someone invented spell check (PHEW!) and, well, I can safely say that…YES!…we NOW live in a constant state of:
1. any scene of wild confusion or disorder.
2. the abode of all demons (also see: Hell)
Aaaaand, I am NOT even exaggerating. Not one bit.

For example, last February: our new-ish dishwasher broke. I called for service and then had to cancel the day they were scheduled to come and fix the darned thing, because I ended up in the hospital with a kidney stone.

[A whole lot of other stuff happened, since then, but I'm going to just go ahead and fast-forward right by March, April and May, in and effort to save you some time, or perhaps take a quick pause for a bathroom break, or something, you're welcome.]

Fast-forward to this week: our new-is washer broke (oh, and yeah, dishwasher is STILL broken, see note regarding March, April and May) soooo, I made an appointment to have both of them looked at, because I am REAL good at multi-tasking like that.

An hour before the service call: this guy comes knocking and tells me, "Water main down the street is broken, we'll have to turn your water off for 5 hours!" and I burst into tears. Luckily, he was a very understanding fellow (had a wife at home AND knew something about piss-poor plumbing) and even offered me a tissue or twenty.

Half an hour before the service call: called to cancel service (AGAIN!) and repair people were all "We have NEVER had to cancel service due to a water main break," and I was all, "Of course you haven't," and "This sort of sh*t only happens to us!"

The next day (Wednesday, of this week, to help you keep up): service guy calls me, while parked in my driveway (sort of like my husband does, so I was okay with it) to ask if our water is on.

During the service call: Doctor's office calls to tell me that the results of my youngest daughter's radiology report from two weeks ago confirms — Hope has pneumonia. Aaaaand, the service guy is all like, "Don't cry!" He didn't have any tissues and I was all, like "It's okay, I still had some from the other guy."

Flash-back, two weeks ago: I was scheduled to work the last day of school in Hope's 5th grade class, except she got sick. Good thing my husband was home from work (took day off for oldest daughter's h.s. graduation, later that afternoon) soooo, he took Hope down to the emergency walk in place. They took an x-ray, said she sounded fine and probably had an upper-respiratory infection and sent them home with antibiotics.

[Note to Self: emergency walk in place does NOT read x-rays taken at emergency walk in place, okay, good to know.]

Yesterday: I called our pediatrician, apologized for cheating on her and took Hope in for an emergency follow-up appointment.

Today: I am happy to report that Hope is fine (she's well onto the road to a full recovery, thank goodness!) and that the parts for both the dishwasher AND washing machine should be here by this weekend.

A few minutes ago: the phone rings, I get a text message AND an emergency email ALL at the same time saying,"Water company has experienced a significant pipe failure…"

I don't know what the rest of it said. I sort of stopped listening after pipe failure.

Morale of the Story: I wasn't lying when I said this sh*t happens to us ALL the time!

Ummmmm….can I use your bathroom?!?

EDITED TO ADD (6/30): Believe it or not, right after I blogged this, Monmouth County (that's us!) issued a state of emergency. A temporary bridge (courtesy of Hurricane Irene) collapsed, damaging some pipes and contaminating our water supply = boil our water until next week, maybe. Seriously, karma is PISSED!

© 2003 – 2012 This Full House
June 29, 2012
Because Some Things Just Shouldn’t Be Shared on Instagram
Alternate Blog Title: Happy 11th Birthday…OH YEAH!…and congratulations on that OTHER thing, Hopey!

It's not like I'm worried about embarrassing my kids or anything (recap: 3 of them are teens, enough said!) still, I think to myself…SELF!…think before you blog:
- Okay, so this cool/funny thing happened.
- Or that would really make an awesome story.
- OH YEAH! The other thing? Totally blog-worthy, right?
Self: Okay, great, but maybe people don't give a flying rat's tail about this, or that…OH YEAH!…and that other thing too…and, well, there's always Instagram, right?

BAH! See what I mean? All this thinking? Makes my head hurt. So, I'm just going to go on faith here and share with you this really blog-worthy thing that happened.

Aaaaand, by blog-worthy I mean:
- I messed up in some way or another and lived to tell the tale, regardless of the fact that you may or may not give a rat's tail whether I did so or not.
- I feel someone may benefit, by my messing up and then telling the tale, in some way or another and no more talk of rat's tails, okay?
In fact, if you've been reading me for any length of time (glutton for punishment, eh?) perhaps you've already benefited by my messing up in some way or another and, well, you're welcome!

Still, I promise NOT to go into any great detail (no, it's my pleasure, really!) because, well, it is somewhat of a sensitive subject and I wouldn't want to embarrass anyone or anything.

WARNING: We are about to head into female territory and the occasional mention of bodily functions may or may not be shared.

(more…)
June 25, 2012
A Blog Post NOT About Graduations, Celebrating a Birthday, Anniversary or My Kids

Because everyone loves a good pirate story, right?!?

I know, I know, though it is sort of a BIG DEAL when your oldest kid graduates high school (d'oh, sorry, won't happen again)!

I sort of try to put myself into your shoes (as difficult as it may be, seeing as your feet are so gosh-darned adorable and all) whenever writing one of these here blog posts.

Aaaaaand, all bad grammar, misspellings, incorrect use of puncuations and run-on sentences aside (because, you know, I have GOT to get this stuff out of my head, like, real fast and sometimes the fingers sort of just take over) I figured some people might get sick of hearing about this sort of stuff.

Like, having a kid old enough to grad…d'oh…you know…then again, I think to myself…SELF!…this here blog has never really been just about my kids…uh, that is to say…Those Who Shall Be Named People Living in This House (PLTH, for short).

On the other hand, PLTH have provided me with some pretty gosh-darned good blog fodder over the years.

In fact, one could argue that, if it weren't for PLTH, this blog would probably not exist.

How it survived THIS long (9 years, this September, to be exact) is beyond me and — considering that everyone and their mother is now an expert in social media — just your being here defies all logical explanation, really.

Thank you for that!

So, without further ado (sp?) I bring you a blog post NOT about graduations, celebrating anyone's birthday, anniversary or my kids.

[moment of silence]

1/3 of PLTH and we're STILL smiling.

SNORT!!! I mean, really, it is MY blog and everything. Besides, that one (up there, minus the pirate mask) is NOT a kid…not anymore…DAMMIT!

© 2003 – 2012 This Full House

Freshly-brewed Elsewhere: I am very honored to be working with Hallmark as a Life is a Special Occasion featured blogger, which allows me to share personal stories, insights and inspirations in enjoying simple, every day moments like this month's post about growing up on the Jersey shore (no, NOT THAT ONE!)

June 22, 2012
Nearly Wordless Wednesday: WAY TO GO, HOLLY!!!!

Click to enlarge (go ahead, she won't mind…too much)

That awkward moment when, typically NOT one for being the center of attention, your family HOLLERS YOUR NAME and you kinda…sorta…think it's a little cool…maybe. Don't worry, we promise to be a little less excited for you once college is over and done with…probably not…YO!!!!

© 2003 – 2012 This Full House

June 20, 2012
Happily Ever After, Everything!

She’s quoting her favorite Dr. Seuss: do you like my hat?

Although it seemed like a good idea at the time, the trouble with having so many kids born 2-3 years apart, I never really did sit down and do the math to figure out that perhaps one day we would be celebrating…a couple of major milestones…THAT SAME FREAKING DAY!

Watch out middle school, here she comes!

So, I thought to myself…SELF!…why not throw one GIANT graduation party the following weekend or something and just be done with it?

Self: Okay, ummm, but what about Hope’s birthday?

Me: Ummm, what about it?

Then it suddenly occurred to me (thank you, Self!) this year Hope’s birthday happens to fall on the SAME day as the graduation party, tentatively speaking of course.

Coming to America (these 3 escaped Hungary, as teenagers): my dad (far right) together again with my adopted uncles.

With Father’s Day that Sunday (I think, wait, yeah, I’m pretty sure) then the 4th of July (which, as a 1st generation born American, is really a BIG DEAL at our house) a few short weeks after, well, the rest of the family might as well just sleepover, right?

“Don’t make yourself crazy, Mom!”

I have a REAL bad habit of thinking out loud.

“Just make it ONE BIG HAPPY EVERYTHING PARTY!”

BRILLIANT! Further proof that my kids are SO MUCH smarter than I am. Really. Then, it rained almost ALL week and I started freaking out (because, I am freaky like that) about having to be stuck indoors with 20+ people.

We have 2 seasons here in Jersey: hot and cold.

So, we broke down and ordered a tent just in case. Still. People might want to use the bathroom, or something. So, I tried to pace myself and spent 3 days cleaning and/or rearranging the house.

Her future looks bright, let’s eat cake!

Then, it stopped raining and, well, at least the house is Thanksgiving clean and thank goodness I won’t have to do THAT again…not until…well…next Thanksgiving.

Happy 11th Birthday, Hopey!

Which reminds me (thank you, Self!) I owe this kid a “Happy Birthday” post, but decided to save it for another time (you’re welcome!) because, well, I’m still trying to recover from…you know…EVERYTHING!

Oh, and looky what else I made (DID SO!) courtesy of many, many lost hours spent on Pinterest.

Enough said. In the meantime, if anybody needs me, I’ll be upstairs, trying to convince my kids to help me bring ALL the clean laundry back down from off of my bed.

Our own private little after party.

Once they wake up, of course! Considering today just so happens to be the first day of their summer break…as well…YO!

The end.

© 2003 – 2012 This Full House

June 18, 2012
Barbie the Verklempt Killer

Having been married for nearly 22 years (wait, that makes me sound way too old) or the entire life span of an average college graduate (ugh, never mind) I feel it safe to say that one of the reasons our relationship works is that my husband Garth (not his real name) and I are total opposites.

One of us is emotional and the other more of an intellectual. Guess which one? Go ahead, I'll wait.

If you guessed me as the emotional one, CONGRATULATIONS!!!

[hugs]

You are ABSOLUTELY right in thinking I am less apt to intellectualize feelings and most likely bringing attention to myself (right now, even) showing off my non-verbal communications skillz…in public.

In other words, I'm probably hugging someone…who does NOT like, let alone even wish to be…you know…hugged…right now.

[hugs]

Sorry. I just canNOT help myself. It's in my genes. In fact, I'm raising a houseful of emotional empaths, we're ALL verklempt up in here.

"You want to come into the school's office with me?"

My oldest girl is graduating high school and my youngest is graduating elementary school this week.

[hand to heart]

Aaaaand, I'm trying really, really hard not to be all…you know…verklempt.

"Maybe you'll see some of your old teachers."

My two oldest girls were home from school (I forget why, although it doesn't really matter, considering these days it's a chore for me to remember their names, moving on) and we (okay, mostly me) thought it would be fun to see if they…you know…remember how much fun…school used to be.

"Look, there's your music teacher, Mrs. B!"

We've gone through many, many teachers in the 13 years my kids have attended this school (at least 13, please don't ask me to name them all) however, Mrs. B is definitely a favorite.

"Are you guys still in high school?"

My middle girl pointed to her oldest sister.

"I am, but she's graduating!"

[eyes go wide]

"Now I feel REALLY old!"

I just stood there, nodding my head, not so much because I couldn't think of anything to say (I know, act surprised anyway, okay?) however, teenagers embarrass rather easily (see previous parenthesis) and, well, they're probably already annoyed with me (right now, even) so, I turned my attention to the office staff.

"I wanted to thank you ladies for all of your…"

[cough]

"…for all of your…

[choke]

"…support over the years."

[clears throat]

"Seeing as it's our last year at this school and everything."

[fans face with hands]

"Thank you…[cough]…all…[choke]…for all that…[clears throat]…you do."

This time, it was Mrs. B's turn to put her hand to her heart.

"Your getting ME all verklempt!"

And so it goes. I do that to intellectuals.

"Want to watch a movie together, like we used to when you were little?"

My oldest was exempt from all but one of her finals this week (yes, I know, she does NOT get it from me) so, she offered to help sit with my youngest (she's home sick from school, it's how we roll) and then came running back into the kitchen.

[places hand on heart]

"She…[cough]…picked…[choke]…a Barbie…[clears throat]…movie!!!"

Funny, I always thought her more of an intellectual, she MUST get that part from her father.

© 2003 – 2012 This Full House

June 11, 2012
Sometimes Bonding With the Dentist, Alongside Your Sister, Can Be a Happy Experience

March 2010 (a.k.a. the year they stopped smiling)

Not that I have anything against dentists…personally. I feel it takes a special sort of something to actually choose a profession that involves looking into and/or tooling around in other people's mouths…on purpose.

In fact, I have personally supported many dental professionals, my ownself — I've had several root canals, as well as gum graphing and reconstructive surgery in my mid-twenties, due to a long lost and previously unforeseen baby tooth exploding in my sinus cavity (you're welcome!) — I've helped hone their dentistry skills AND achieve their long-term financial goals.

In other words dentists, or pretty much anyone involved in any aspect of oral healthcare, absolutely LOVED me!

Then, I had children and, well, nowadays, dentists are also very knowledgeable in creating really cool balloon animals and even allow younger kids to play with Mr. Thirsty (a.k.a. the spit sucker) or have several video game systems set up…in their waiting rooms…you know…for siblings to play with…on purpose.

In other words, my kids LOVED going to the dentist.

Until, they got older and, well, there are many different levels of "It's like a pinch, really" when kids hit double-digits.

Then, they reach teenhood and, well, I swear pulling teeth has GOT to be easier than getting a teenager to smile.

Trust me, having spent a little more than a third of my life waiting in a dentist's and/or doctor's office, I know — especially, with my oldest girls.

Holly and Heather have endured two years of having their teeth pulled, prodded and realigned to look like "drunken railroad tracks" (their words, not mine) and I had my doubts the Orthondontist would EVER be able to…you know…pull it/them off.

Two years ago, the Orthodontist promised to make my girls smile and boy did she EVER deliver.

BONUS POINTS: for being able to do so…3 days before Holly's senior prom…the Orthodontist happens to be a mother, of teens, as well.

© 2003 – 2012 This Full House

June 6, 2012