Contrary to popular opinion, raising older kids (i.e. can quantify their age(s) using more than two hands) does have its perks: I don't worry so much about having age-appropriate conversations.
Because, as most parents of older kids already know, I consider myself pretty gosh-darned lucky whenever my teens DO decide to talk to me, AT ALL.
Son: Madonna needs to retire.
NO! I am NOT and have NEVER claimed to be an expert, at anything — other than my insanely awesome ability of leaping tall piles of laundry in a single bound, while listening to 4 different conversations, at once.
However, I can't help but sometimes feel this incredible need to share a few insights on raising kids.
For example: parenting under the influence of teenagers can make even the smartest of people…sound stoopid…most especially, to teenagers.
So, to save other parents (especially, those with younger kids) a few headaches, I have created this little infographic to help you reinforce a more realistic homework ritual:
**passes bottle of [insert favorite brand of pain reliever, here]**
You're welcome.
©2003 -2014 This Full House with a fan page on Facebook, a way for you to subscribe to receive This Full House blog post by Email and everything!
As a family of Jersey girls and boys — my husband, Garth (not his real name), the kids and I were ALL born and raised here — we've grown accustomed to snow. It's the wintertime. We live on the East coast. It snows on the East coast, especially in wintertime, sometimes it even snows A LOT.
Yesterday was no exception, although when the forecast called for "a major snow event" we immediately split into two camps: there is team "I hope we get dumped on!" and the other half of us are all…I HOPE [enter name of next major snow storm, here] BLOWS OUT OVER THE FRIGGIN' OCEAN, THE JERK.
Guess which one I'm on?!? G'head, I'll wait.
We've had winter storms that start off with a BANG (or BAH-TAH-BING, if you're from Jersey) and then sort of just fizzle out, but then OTHER times they really do turn into major snow events, THE JERKS.
Winter storm Janus (rhymes with hanus, I know it's really spelled heinous, just not as funny) turned out to be a BIG FAT JERK!
To save on snow days (our kids get out in late June, when the rest of the nation's summer vacation is almost already over, as it is) our schools decided to call an early dismissal. Which is GREAT! Unless your kid attends a school that is 25 miles away from home (approx. 30 mins. on the Parkway, on a good day, if you're from Jersey), like one of mine does.
It took Heather's bus driver 2 hours to get home and I spent almost ALL of those TWO HOURS staring out our front door (it's okay, the neighbors who live directly across the street from us weren't home and they don't really like us, anyway) giving the stink eye to the cars who whizzed on by…not realizing (or caring) that…you know…IT'S SNOWING…SIDEWAYS…SO SLOW DOWN, YOU JERK!!!
Don't even get me started on having kids old enough to drive in the snow…their ownselves…UGH!!!
I mean, I used to like the snow. Especially, when my kids were little-er, but a little more willing to, you know, actually go outside AND walk in it.
So, after lamenting how I would like snow EVEN MORE if it wasn't so wet, cold and snowy, my friend Beth was kind enough to help me to realize that perhaps I just wish it resembled beach sand…a little more…okay, A LOT!
She also happens to be a Jersey girl, YO!
©2003 -2013 This Full House with a fan page on Facebook, a way for you to subscribe to receive This Full House blog post by Email and everything!
I have played around with many different types of banana bread recipes over the years, swapping out ingredients for whatever I happen to have available in the house (or not) and then perhaps combining them with some cool new baking tips or techniques I’ve either seen, heard or read about.
Which also means that my banana breads never really taste quite the same and, well, baking IS an exact science…DANGIT!!!…and not very conducive to spur-of-the-moment…wonder what happens when I do THIS?!?…sort of recipe mash-ups, either.
Oh and, around here, bananas usually don’t last long enough to over-ripen.
Yesterday, we had one and I’m all…what am I going to do with one over-ripe banana?!?…while staring at the two very ripe pears sitting right next to it just BEGGING to be mashed-up…and then I remembered we almost NEVER run out of any chocolate chips, either.
Linky Love Bytes: Wordless Wednesday HQ, 5 Minutes for Mom
©2003 -2013 This Full House with a fan page on Facebook and everything!
I am NOT a big fan of needles and I absolutely HATED taking my kids for their shots…EVEN MORE…as fellow needle phobia sufferers (a.k.a. trypanophibia) can well imagine, yes?
If no, it's okay, it simply means I closed my eyes, counted one alligator, two alligators and then cried, right along wit-em.
My son is on a specific type of medication, that requires a monthly blood test, which means I have to take him to a lab and have his blood drawn or…as he refers to as…the place where he bleeds, on purpose…every month.
I shared an update on Facebook, praising a good Samaritan for stopping to check if I was alright after having negotiated some very icy roads, earlier this morning. I then added to the comments:
Long-time blog readers will understand EXACTLY how very proud I am, of myself, for NOT losing my sh*t.
I feel the need to expand on this morning's discussion (which is EXACTLY why I love Facebook, btw!), because I am extremely lucky to have been introduced to lots of brand new online friends over my eleventy years of blogging — someone once called me the "grandmother of blogging", but let's not open THAT wound, m'kay?!? — and it's sort of awesome to able to share something nice, with you.
Especially, living (and driving) ova here in Jersey.
You might want to grab a warm beverage (or a cold one, if it suits you, I'm easy!), because I'm going to tell you a little story about how I know…FOR A FACT…that asshats have NOT yet completely taken over the world!
I'm NOT very good at asking for help. Oh, I ask the kids to feed the dog, change the cat litter, pick up the wet towels or take out the garbage…which becomes more of a DEMAND…especially, after asking for the 3rd or 4th time…DAMMIT!
Asking someone (especially, another mom) to do me a solid, not so much (a.k.a. a favor, do me a solid is a phrase I first heard in 1991 on an episode of Seinfeld called "The Jacket", look it up youngins!).
Long story, short (because, this WAS supposed to be a Wordless Wednesday post and, well, since you're already here and everything): yesterday was a bad day and I was feeling more than just a lee-tull overwhelmed with worry…more than usual, what with living in a houseful of teens, I mean…about ALL the things.
Although 2014 marks my 11th year of blogging (that's right, I was over-sharing, before over-sharing was cool, baby!), my philosophy regarding writing about life's more sensitive issues (i.e. raising teens) has pretty much remained the same.
I only share the stuff I would feel comfortable talking about…in front of my teens…or when meeting someone…for the first time.
Still, there's something very therapeutic about being able to, literally, write your way into a healthier state of mind, right?
Besides, there's nothing like a good brain vomit to get you moving in the right direction…which is forward…you know…far away from all the vomit.
I've even taken to discussing my girlie troubles in the most manly way I know how, in mechanical terms, to help our more squeamish blog visitors feel a little less uncomfortable.
This is not one of those times.
WARNING, FRANK DISCUSSION AHEAD: relating to the female reproductive system, while using proper medical terms, for both internal and external bodily functions, and everything.
Like most families we know, the kids and I have our favorite holiday traditions: decorating Christmas cookies ranks right up there with tricking out a ginger bread house with leftover Halloween candy, if there’s any left.
Assembling said gingerbread house, not so much.
So, when our good friends at Kellogg’s challenged us to put a twist on a family-favorite holiday tradition, I thought it would be REALLY fun to replicate This Full House (the house) in Rice Krispies, but then I broke it.