This Full House Archive

Tag: new jersey mom bloggers

And I Wonder, As I Wander
My youngest daughter and I were fighting over radio stations on the way to school, this morning (I'm a little oldies and she's a little bit, you know, LOUD) when it occurred to me that we moved into our starter home, which happens to be THIS house, on Memorial Day weekend…in 1993!

"Wow, that means, you've been walking the halls for 18 years!"

Okay, so it's STILL a 7 room house and it's not like we have THAT many halls to begin with.

Actually, only 1, on the way to the bathroom, in front of the girls' room and, well, it can get REAL scary, walking down there!

Then, I got to thinking about it some more (stupid traffic lights) and, well, she was ABSOLUTELY right.

Although, it's more like I wander, as I wonder, after 18 years, why I STILL can't remember where in the heck I put stuff.

However, I refuse to believe it's because I'm old-ish (but, I still LOOK good, dagnabit!) besides, a person's brain can hold only so much information, before it implodes, right?

It's true, I read it somewhere, in a book.

[heavy sigh]

Aaaaand, for those of you skeptics out there (yeah, I see you, way in the back, over there on the left, in the t-shirt and cut-off shorts) who STILL don't understand how a person (like me) can FORGET TO HAVE BREAKFAST, I present to you, yesterday morning:
- Squints at clock on wall.
- Dang, we're late (AGAIN!)
- Grabs coffee cup.
- Runs back to house (stupid bladder!)
- Drive to school.
- Reminded about some school event, in an hour.
- Runs home to check for email.
- Checks other emails.
- Answers emails.
- More email.
- Reaches for empty coffee cup.
- Need more coffee.
- See box of cereal left on the table.
- Squints at clock on coffee maker.
- Oh, yeah, almost forgot to eat breakfast.
- Also, need more coffee.
- Dang, got to clean out coffee maker.
- Looks out kitchen window.
- Oh, what a pretty bird.
- Squints.
- Get off the feeder, you danged squirrel!
- Dog careens passed to bark at squirrel bird.
- Spill coffee grinds.
- Stupid dog!
- Great, paper towel roll empty (AGAIN!)
- Starts walking towards garage door.
- BARK-BARK-BARK-BARK-BARKITY-BARK-BARK!
- Shuddup, Doofus!
- Ummmmmmmmm…..
- COFFEE!!!
- Walks back to kitchen.
- Dang, I'm hungry.
- Grabs cereal box.
- GAH, it's empty.
- Go to throw it away, sees coffee grinds on floor.
- DAGNABIT!!!
- Places empty box on kitchen counter.
- Gets paper towels, cleans up coffee grinds.
- STARVING!!!
- Reaches for bowl, banana and where in the heck did that cereal box go?
- D'oh!!!
- Throws banana peel into empty cereal box.
- GET OFF OFFAMY BIRD FEEDER!!!
- Stomps off to back door.
- What's THAT smell?
- Forgot to switch the laundry (AGAIN!)
- Checks bathrooms for wet towels.
- FLUSH!!!
- I drink way tooooo much coffee.
- COFFEE!!!
- Start walking back to kitchen.
- Hrmph, someone left the washing machine door…oh.
- Walk back to bathroom for towels.
- Stomach growls.
- Start back to kitchen.
- Bon Appetit, you danged squirrel bird.
- Grabs cereal bowl.
- Steps over coffee grinds.
- Picks up cereal box.
- Shakes cereal box; looks inside.
- What the…now, who in the heck put a banana peel…[one beat, two beats]
- Oh…DAYUM!
So, the next time someone tells you, "I FORGOT TO EAT BREAKFAST," just smile, nod your head and know that…you know…it COULD happen!!!

[sound of crickets]

Or, give them a cup of coffee (or, a banana) then, take them by the hand and show them the way to the bathroom, or something, thanks!!!

[UPDATE: School nurse at middle school JUST called (seriously!) son is in her office, throwing up and, well, doesn't seem like I'll be eating breakfast, lunch, or dinner…anytime soon…BLECH!]

© 2003 – 2011 This Full House
May 27, 2011
And if you voz to zee my Iriz…

Pardon me, while I tap into my Hungarian roots, here, but I love this time of year, minus the wet.

Some of my favorite flowers are blooming, RIGHT NOW, most of which we adopted from my parent's garden, before selling the house they spent 30+ years, rebuilding, literally, from the ground up.

It was just too much for them.

After 7 years of successfully negotiating dozens of hurdles that life continues to throw at them, my parents are still making beautiful things happen, in the dirt.

It's in their blood.

I've read that there are over 200 varieties of Iris (Irises?) but, that pretty little thing, there on your left, grows right outside our front door and, well, it just makes me smile…BIGTIME.

Aaaaand, that, right there, izzzzz a verrrrry gut ting!

© 2003 – 2011 This Full House

May 25, 2011
“Man”ifest Those Post Its, My Son

Glen is 12, going on boyteen and, being raised in a house, filled with females, he's grown used to navigating through a raging sea of hormones.

Also, rooting through an endless supply of feminine products, because, well, there has GOT to be a roll of toilet paper, in there, somewhere, DAGNABIT!

On the other hand, our house seems to be a breeding ground for random pieces of bar soap and I guess we could always recycle them into something fun and useful…but…EWWWW!

Aaaanyway, all bathroom issues aside (you're welcome!) my son remains light-hearted about growing up in a testosterone-ly-challenged environment…mostly.

Although, I do make a point of reminding him, that he is the ONLY person, in this house, who does NOT have to share a bedroom (doorless, as it is) with anyone.

So, I was upstairs helping my son put away his summer clothes (wishful thinking, I know) the majority of which do NOT fit, so we made a quick job of it, by the way (UGH!) when, a giant dust bunny rolled out from underneath his bed and scared our socks back to their original color.

Apparently, his version of "clean your room," is slightly different from mine, by definition (i.e. picking your clothes up from off the floor is clean enough) I blame his sisters.

One by one, we took stuff off, from on top of some other stuff, moved more stuff and, DANG, the boy REALLY didn't have as much room as, you know, I led everyone, here, to believe….sorry.

"Can we put any of this stuff in the garage sale?"

[shiver]

I know, I hate garage sales, too. Still. We need the room and he wants a new skateboard, so on and so forth.

"Sure, if you're ready to let it go."

It's not like when they were younger, when I waited until they were in school to get rid of stuff (sorry guys!)

Besides, I still remember feeling MORTIFIED when my mom found AND read my diary and, well, I really, really don't want to go there.

"Maybe we could move things around a bit, too."

Since, you know, Glen was at school, the last time I changed his room around, by myself…WHAT?…he was still in single digits, at the time (I think!)

FLASH FORWARD: 3 hours later (for real, I checked!)

TAH-DAHHHH…I helped Glen create his very own official man cave…please disregard the hearts and flowers border…it used to be my room…B.G. (before Glen) and, well, life is good, once again…or, at least, this one rainy weekend.

I took some clean clothes up this morning and saw that he's since included a bunch of post its on his mirror.

Upon closer inspection, I realized that it was his version of a vision board and, well, suffice it to say, we got to talking about a lot of stuff, in those 3 hours and, even though I would LOVE to show you, it's not my place to tell you.

Okay, just one: Stay focused.

I think it's a boy thing, but also admitted that, some adults, even parents (ahem!) have difficulty, dealing with too many distractions, so on and so forth.

[taking an even closer look]

Aaaand, there's this one: Get more Axe gel and deodorant!

It's okay, anyone who's raising a boyteen already knows why that particular "post it" was being referenced to, in the short term, of course!

© 2003 – 2011 This Full House

May 23, 2011
I.O.U.

Our oldest is a junior (I know, still not sure how THAT happened) so, my husband, Garth (not his real name) and I attended a financial aid workshop at the high school, last night.

Because, you know, she's a junior, in high school and, well, this whole, "Holy Hannah Montana, I got a junior in high school," thing really didn't seem like such a big deal…when she was in kindergarten.

Long story, short (as of now, anyway) and 6 hand-written pages worth of notes, later (old school, I know) our best takeaway from the night?

We can now continue to talk about our kids, continuing their education, without throwing up.

Good thing, too, seeing as we'll be very, very busy, filling out paperwork, for the next 16 years.

Yes, I know, we have 4 kids and, yeah, this is EXACTLY the sort of stuff expert-types tell us we should have…you know…talked about…sooner.

Aaaand, it's totally what I expected the very expert-looking dude to tell us, last night, too.

Although, we kind of sort of, you know, already knew.

Still, the workshop was free and I was thankful to get any advice, coming from people, who get paid good money, to tell other people, you know, they don't have any money.

So, I sat there, kept my mouth shut (which, anyone who knows me, knows, quiet makes me itch) watched the expert-like dude fire up his power point, "Helping Students Pursue Their Educational & Career Goals," and cringed in anticipation

"It's never too late to start planning for college."

[heavy sigh]

I should have known, better. He wasn't wearing a tie!

Morale of the Story: "Remember, an expert is a person who tells you a simple thing in a confused way to make you think the confusion is your own fault" ~ William Castle (producer of Rosemary's Baby, so, yeah, he should know!)

Thanks, I.O.U. one, expert-like dude, along with everyone else, for the next 16 years.

© 2003 – 2011 This Full House

May 18, 2011
Insert Blog Post Title, Right Here…

So, my husband, Garth (not his real name) was ironing his dress shirt the other morning.

Okay, he irons his dress shirts…every morning.

Because, I don't have the patience…especially, when it comes to completing intricate little domestic duties…that require the use of both hands…at the SAME time…plus, I hate ironing…oh, and mornings.

[takes deep breath]

Aaaaanyway, as usual, my eyes were glued shut (stupid allergies!) so, I tried to, you know, un-glue them and that's when the conversation turned, well, sort of weird.

[looking into mirror]

"The left one kinda looks crusty."

[one beat, two beats]

"That's what SHE said!!!"

Buh-dum-bum.

SNORT!

[sound of crickets]

Guess you had to be there. Still, we both thought it was ALSO pretty funny. How, even the most innocent sentence in the world changes when responded to as:

"That's what SHE said!"

SNORT!

Because, I am ALL about making blogging fun (shuddup!) I thought…HEY!…I bet we could do this with blogs, too.

Want to play?

The rules, they are easy — all you have to do is leave a comment here:

1. List your latest blog post title.

2. Followed by, "That's what SHE said!"

That's it. Feel free to play this on your own blog, too. The more the merrier, right?

"That's what she said!!!"

Orrrrrrr, just make something up, I'm easy.

"That's what SHE said!"

Buh-dum-bum.

© 2003 – 2011 This Full House

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May 11, 2011
The Gift of Nothing

I woke, like most mornings, with extreme dry mouth, the ability to breath through my right nostril (ONLY!) a major case of bed head and the deep, roasty smell of a freshly-brewed pot of coffee.

Aaaand, against ALL laws of this mother's nature (i.e. no one, who knows me, can call me a morning person, EVER!) I allowed myself to be escorted to the breakfast table, eyes shut tight (stupid allergies) and well, I couldn't help but giggle when my youngest daughter announced:

"I was going to pick you some flowers, but the bees are a little cranky, this morning."

Regardless of how hard jewelry stores try to convince us, it's the little things that keep me going, as frazzled, frantic and frequently frustrated by poorly manufactured zippers, as I am.

Not to mention, less than supportive bras.

Don't EVEN get me started on stray facial hair.

Oh, and what rocket scientist thought it would be a good idea to put adhesive wings on sanitary napkins?

Seriously.

Mother Nature can be a real witch, sometimes…um…where was I…oh, yeah…these days, doesn't take much to make my heart go all, you know, squishy.

Like, finding my plate surrounded by freshly-picked blossoms from one of our neighbor's azalea bushes…kidding, it's on our side of the property line…I think.

Or, one of the treasures from our latest beach-combing excursions carefully crafted into a pretty reminder, for my desk.

Well, unlike me (DAMMIT!) this sort of stuff just never gets old, you know?

[bites lower lip]

My 12 year-old son, however, would beg to differ.

"What's with the face, Bub?"

Never one to let sleeping dogs lie…which reminds me…GET OFF THE COUCH YOU BIG DOOFUS-DAWG!…sorry about that…so, where was I…oh, yeah…nothing.

"Nothing!"

Warning…morale parenting dilemma ahead.

"Glen helped pick the flowers…yeah, and he helped me decorate the shell…yep, and he helped me cut the fruit…"

[frowning]

"No, I didn't!"

Phew! Dilemma avoided. Although, I'm not happy my daughters felt the need to lie…for my son. Still. Even my husband, Garth (NHRN) thought it was sort of nice that, you know, the girls were indeed covering for their brother.

"I did nothing."

The gift of guilt, however, lasts a lifetime, no?

"Yes, but nothing is EXACTLY what I asked for, isn't it?"

[one beat, two beats]

"Heh, you're welcome!"

Forgive me for feeling all meh about Mother's Day.

Especially, all of you new moms, out there, with your adorable little mini-selves and even though I really do miss that fresh new baby smell, sometimes.

Quite frankly, I want nothing.

Except, for a little peace.

Also, quiet.

Or, for the person who found my tweezers and forgot to put 'em back to, you know, put 'em back.

Oh, and maybe even a second cup of coffee.

Now, THAT…cough-cough-Heather…would be REAL nice.

Little things like that, right there.

But, mostly, nothing, thankyouverymuch.

"Well, then, you're gonna LOVE what I got you for your birthday!"

Yay, as long as it doesn't have a zipper, I can't wait…NOT.

© 2003 – 2011 This Full House

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May 9, 2011
I Heard it Through the Grapevine

My husband, Garth (not his real name) and I planted grapes about two years ago (I think) when I was sort of toying with the idea of channeling my Hungarian roots and making my very own, you know, homemade wine.

Until, last summer, when the grapes died, along with most of our tomatoes, cucumbers and whatever else the stupid ground hog missed, before the rains came and washed his furry little butt away (out to sea, I hope) along with half our neighbor's yard and, well, I would have been happy with a small jar of jelly, really.

Then, the birds ate the rest and, well, got to love nature, right?

Still. I refuse to give up, DAMMIT. So, last weekend, my husband Garth (not his real name) unlocked the tool shed and not because he's afraid of the kids hurting themselves, or anything.

Seriously, even my almost-ten-year-old knows that giant, ferocious, probably child-eating sort of bees live in our shed and, well, she may, or may not, have heard it from a somewhat reliable source, in an effort to keep kids from touching MY stuff, don't judge!

Aaaaand, there was this one time, during summer vacation, when I nearly electrocuted myself so, well, oh, look…up there…is that REAL raspberries?!?

Okay, not yet…but, soon (I hope) along with a crop of blackberries we planted, last weekend, on the other side of the shed (not shown, because, you know, bees live there) and look what else Garth (NHRN) helped me build.

Like it? It's my first. What do you mean, what is it? Why, it's a…uh…well, not quite a shed…um…more like a peaceful place to pot things in.

Not to mention, hide the stuff we've recycled, from other people's yards.

YES, with their permission, of course, sheesh.

SHEESH!

It took us all day, last Sunday, but, you know what?

It felt, really, really good, too.

Okay, so maybe not in a, "Oh, look, I'm saving the world, ya'll" sort of way, I admit.

But, dang it to h-e-double-hockey-sticks if we can't, at the very least, teach our kids to help make the world, look just a wee bit prettier, right from our very own backyard, either.

"Wow, YOU made this, mom?!?!"

Yes, yes, it's my first, and I did it recycling a couple of grape vines, dead as they are.

"Ewwwwwwwww!"

[eyes go wide]

"Oh come on, it's not THAT bad, is it?"

Seriously, seeing as she is the only one, of all four of my kids, who likes to be outside, on purpose, I thought that at least my almost-ten-year-old would appreciate the effort.

"No, look, you're bleeding!"

So, yeah, I'm NOT the greenest mom on the planet.

"Ewwwww, and what's that on your nose?"

Aaaand, I seemed to have misplaced my gardening gloves (AGAIN!) good thing I also happen to look better in red, anyway.

[blank stare]

I know, still, you'll never be able to convince me there's a global benefit to allowing poison ivy to grow, all over the danged place, EVER, either.

[sound of crickets, chirping]

Oh, look, up there, is that a REAL grape vine wreath!?!?

[SLAM!]

Happy Mother's Day weekend, everyone and don't forget to lock up your power tools…oh, and for heaven sakes, wear gloves…I hear poison ivy is quite the mood killer, trust me…also, will someone PLEASE tell Garth (NHRN) we need more wine, thanks!

© 2003 – 2011 This Full House

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May 6, 2011
Be Kind 2 Earth Day: So, You From Joisey?

We are big time supporters of the National Wildlife Federation (yes, we have wildlife…in Jersey!) my kids have been reading Your Big Back Yard and Ranger Rick for years (thank you, Grandma and Grandpa) so, I was very honored to partner with the NWF as a Founding Mother of their Be Out There campaign.

Why?

Contrary to what other people may have told you (if you're not from Jersey) there are some very pretty places to visit here (YES, in New Jersey) and no, I am not even kidding.

Okay, but why SO defensive?

My parents immigrated from Hungary (my father was 19 and my mother was 14, younger than my oldest girls, by the way) and worked very, very hard to make a home for our family, here in Jersey.

Even in retirement, working the land and cultivating their tiny piece of the American dream to the point where they are both barely able to walk, my parents remain passionate about teaching their grandchildren to respect the earth…EVERY DAY!

Morale of the Story: This is MY home. My kids live here. This is their legacy. Trash our state and I will go all Hungarian on your behind.

Want to help?

My friends Cooper and Emily of TheMotherhood.com have just launched a cool Earth Day inspired digital campaign with the National Wildlife Federation and Nickelodeon, enlisting bloggers in every state to help spread the word about B Kind 2 Earth Day:

The initiative is simple: promise to do one nice thing for the Earth on April 22nd — a "like" for the B Kind 2 Earth page equals a promise.

It's been a looooooooong (and HARD!) winter and the kids are on spring break, next week (FINALLY!!!) so, as a BK2 Leader representing New Jersey, I'm calling all you's out (YO!) to do, or say something nice about our home state.

Like, we promised to unplug, go outside and help our 104 year-old neighbor clean up her yard.

Also, doing the same along any of the beaches, walking paths and hiking paths we'll be visiting and generally just helping out around the house during our annual staycation with my parents, next week.

So, you from Joisey?

Go "like" the B Kind 2 Earth page, and let's show everyone how kick-butt New Jersey is by adding to the state participation count…YO!!!

Any-uh-yuhs got a problem witdat?

© 2003 – 2011 This Full House

April 15, 2011
Where the Earth Meets the Sky
(YES, in Jersey!)

When my kids were younger, I used to love to take them to Monmouth Battlefield State Park and not because it's just down the road from the best gosh-darned apple cider donuts made in New Jersey, either.

Although, I do not miss those double-stroller days (okay, maybe just a little) I was a bit taken aback by bittersweet moments (okay, more like suffering a major heart squeeze) as they each fondly remembered the museum to be a little, you know, bigger.

I felt the same way (sort of) but, for many different reasons…four of them, to be exact.

Still, it was a good day and there's something about the openness of "the battlefield" that makes my kids want to go all, you know, feral.

To run free. Unrestrained and out of focus, yet knowing that they are well protected from the highways, that run within a stone's throw, on either side.

Oh, I'm not saying that every day is this pretty, or promise that the road ahead isn't filled with tons of goose poop, either.

There was this one time, however, on the battlefield, when we found the exact spot where the earth meets the sky.

And, well, I just love that, you know?

© 2003 – 2011 This Full House

April 4, 2011
Hell. Handbasket. Two Tickets, Please.

I am a BIG believer in Karma — put it out there, you'll get it back and all that jazz — whatever, it's just a simple way of keeping my good vs. less than gooder side in check.

Unless, it's April Fool's Day and, well, then, all bets are off.

ME: Uh, we got about 4 inches of snow last night, but schools haven't called, so you might want to change into something a little warmer.

17 yo: Are you kidding me?!?

15 yo: You mean, I shaved my legs for nothing?!?

ME: Yes, I'm kidding.

15 yo: PHEW!

17 yo: You mean, there's no school?

ME: No, I mean it didn't really snow last night!!!

[eyes go wide]

HAH, APRIL FOOLS!!!!!

Snort. Cough. Wipes eyes.

Now, I totally understand how those with younger children would probably not think this to be very funny.

I merely considered pulling this same gag on my two youngest, for a fleeting moment, but thought better of it, for fear of being thrown into a whole other sort of purgatory and, trust me, you don't want any of that.

Also, wouldn't have worked as well with those of you living in an area where, you know, it's actually snowing.

GARTH (NOT HIS REAL NAME): You might want to warm your car up, it's snowing.

[eyes go wide]

If, however, you have teenagers, Garth (not his real name) or I will be more than happy to save you a seat!

© 2003 – 2011 This Full House

April 1, 2011