This Full House Archive

Tag: New Jersey mommybloggers

Cape Cod or Bust, Garth (not his real name) fuh-bid!

Yeah, I was thinking about stocking up…BIGTIME!

I nearly tripped over this basket of sage sticks while in Provincetown this weekend (I know, like in Massachusetts, read on!) and swore I could hear fate hollering: heeeeeeeeere's your sign.

If you've been reading my blog for any length of time (most especially, this past summer) then you already know: the #FUBAR runs deep in these here parts.

We're gonna need a bigger boat!

Which is why I was a little hesitant about the last-minute, "Hey I got an idea, how about you
and the kids getaway for the weekend", road trip courtesy of my husband Garth (not
his real name) in a last ditch-effort to give them SOMETHING vacation-ish to write about in school.

Aaaaaand, since they are off from school on Monday and Tuesday for Rosh Hashanah (Shanah Tovah, to all my Jewish friends!) while my husband, on the other hand, is not (dammit!) the timing was sort of good-ish.

On the other, other hand: it is, at the very least, a 5+hour car drive through 5 states of traffic (NJ, NY, CT, RI, MA, enough said!) ALL BY MYSELF.

Moving onto the foot: then again, he knows that my friends find his random acts of spontaneity to be very, very sexy…me, too!

Warmest and bestest welcome…EVUH!!!

So, I texted my friend Sue (a.k.a. As Cape Cod Turns) that night, to let her know that we'd be in town the next night (or, since I had to wait for the kids to get home from school and we'd probably get in around midnight, the day after that) so as to give her plenty of time to…you know…go out, make plans, stock up on some extra sage sticks, or something.

The funny thing is she then told her parents, who then offered up their downstairs for us to stay and so on…and so on…and…well…yes, they are SUPER AWESOME like that.

Provincetown fun, way fun-ner with friends!

We've been going to the Cape since fuh-evuh…as far as the kids are concerned…so they made a list of their favorite memories and it was my job to squeeze 2 weeks of vacation…into 3 days…besides driving them…ummmmm…EVERYWHERE!…and back again, I mean.

[rolls up sleeves]

(more…)

September 18, 2012
Perfection is So Over-Weeded

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

June 24, 2011
3,650 Days

As a mom of a 17, 15 and 12 year-old, other than scraping teeth on utensils, or chewing and speaking at the same time (shiver!) things don't bother me as much, as they did, when ALL 4 of my kids were in single digits…at the same time (double-shiver!)

But, this kid…right here…just turned 10 today and, well, I'm still having trouble wrapping my head around the fact that my oldest is now a legally licensed driver.

Or, that my middle girl is turning 16 at the end of this year and how much older than 15 that sounds, right about now.

Cape May 2011

Never mind, that my son's next birthday will mark the "Holy Hannah Montana what do you mean we have 3 teenagers in the house," point in our lives where my husband, Garth (not his real name) and I won't be able to use each of my pregnancies as a time line, to remember stuff, for very much longer.

Cape May 2007

Like, how this post is supposed to be about Hope's 10th Birthday and here I am, going on about her siblings and, well, that's how it goes, when you are the youngest, right?

But, this kid…right here…makes us laugh AND cry (especially, whenever she feels the need to interject herself in a conversation and correct one of us, which is often) like no one else we know (she's usually right, btw!)

Although, sometimes Hope will swear that she is ALWAYS last and that no one EVER listens to her, she has single-handedly managed to claim an especially squishy spot in each of our hearts.

Because, Hope IS a mashup of ALL that is good in our lives at the moment and, now that she's crossed-over to double digits, too (SOB!) I can't think of a better reason to celebrate, than this:

From Day 1 to Day 3,650 (or, 3,652.42199, including, leap year) there is and always will be ONLY one Hope — a.k.a. Queen of the Cat Daddy.

Happy 10th Birthday, Hopey!

P.S. After careful consideration, I've decided to surprise Hope and take her to get her nails done after school, today. I understand, she's only 10 (see above) but, it's the ONLY thing on this kid's birthday list and, considering I'm her mother, it's really not a whole heck of a lot to ask, is it?

P.P.S. Besides, she's MY kid…soooooooo…pppfffbbbllltttt!!!

© 2003 – 2011 This Full House

June 16, 2011
Maybe This Time, She’ll Stay…Parked.

Last week, I got to spend a few days at one of my favorite summertime destinations and, would you believe, it is NOT Disney?

My family has never been, actually.

Nope, in fact, I was happy for the opportunity to write about my favorite vacation spot, here in Jersey (is, too!!!)

Still, leaving home, without my kids, is always hard.

However, I did not expect my youngest daughter to cry and hug me, as hard, as she did, or to make my son feel as if I were never coming back home, ever again.

Then, about halfway into the 2+ hour car ride it dawned me.

"Hi mom, we need the password for Netflix."

My kids were sad, beeeeeecause, they weren't allowed to, you know, come with me and, well, the fact that they probably would be fine, without me (for the next few days, at least) just made my time away from home a little easier.

Then, I came home, gave them each their presents (don't judge) and we ALL settled in to catch up on Season 2 of Glee (thank you, Netflix) when it hit.

"Mom, we need to practice parallel parking!!!"

A wave of nausea, when realizing that my oldest daughter is taking her driving test on Tuesday and…for those of you who have been reading along…for the last 8 years (you know who you are!) and my many new friends I've met over the internets…I hope you understand when I repeat this, all in UPPERCASE:

HOLLY WILL (or will not) BE ISSUED A NEW JERSEY DRIVER'S LICENSE, TOMORROW!!!

Oh and, one more thing:

HOW IN THE H…E…DOUBLE HOCKEY STICKS DID THAT HAPPEN, ANYWAY?!?!?

[takes deep breath]

So, Garth (not his real name) and I traded cars, since she'll be road-testing in it, anyway.

Also, the hand break is in the center console, where instructor can reach it, if need be, but I hope not, still, you never know, it is supposed to rain, like buckets, okay, pour actually, ugh, moving on.

Late this afternoon, Holly and I headed over to the high school and, seeing as I grew up about 25 minutes outside of New York City, while my husband grew up with head on parking (ONLY!) I instructed my 17 year-old in the fine art of parallel parking.

Phase 1: wasn't very successful and I suspected it was because the poor kid couldn't see the back of the first pretend car.

"This is no use, Mom, I can't see the garbage can in the front!"

See, I told you, because, I'm smart like that.

Phase 2: I found the pair of slippers, from Christmas, that don't fit Garth (not his real name) in the trunk, so I balanced it right on top of an empty box of garbage bags and, viola!!!

Almost, not quite, but I just stood there, taking pictures, all quiet like (which is very, very hard for a Hungarian, just so you know) and let Holly get a feel for her.

Well, seems like she's ready and close enough to the curb for Mr. or Ms. DMV Instructor, even, right?

"I'm gonna pass this suh-cuh!"

Yep, to me, it sounds like she's more than ready to drive, in Jersey!

"Even if you don't, no biggie!"

Seriously, we live in Jersey, either way, she parks like her muh-thuh.

"Can I blog this?"

So, you know, I could remember what in the h…e…double hockey sticks I did…for the next 3 times, I mean.

"Can you believe that Hope's turning double-digits this week, too, Mom?"

Because, you know, they don't stay little for long…DAGNABIT!!!!

UPDATED TO ADD: She passed. I did NOT puke. Aaaaand, now it starts…

© 2003 – 2011 This Full House

June 13, 2011
Boom, Boom, BOOM!

A transformer behind our house blew up (like, in BOOM!) and we lost ALL power, this morning.

No big deal, really, happens ALL the time!

Although, I'm not quite sure why, other than listening to my husband insisting it's because our kids leave the lights on…ALL of them…ALL the time…and, well, it just makes mornings a REAL pain in the backside.

More than usual, I mean.

Considering that, this time, it happens to be on a Monday morning, well, you know.

2 hours later.

"Wanna go for a ride?"

My oldest is home from school for a mom-imposed mental health day (final exams and road test for driver's license, next week…enough said) and, considering that I hadn't showered and would probably spend way too much money on coffee, working at Starbucks, anyway.

"SURE!"

Plus, it seems my impatience was painfully obvious (tap, tap, tap, tap, tap…looks at clock…tap, tap, tap) not to mention, wearing a hole in our living room carpet.

"You can teach me how to cash a check."

Although, it's been a while (fyi: patience is a valuable job skill when freelancing, DAGNABIT!) I was more than happy to help my oldest learn the value of banking…on the positive side….for once.

"Sign here…account number goes here…oh, and they may ask you for some identification, so make sure you have your student i.d. with you…what?"

[blank stare]

"Aren't you coming in with me?"

No. Not because I didn't shower, or wash my hair, either.

"Nope, you don't need me."

She pulled down the visor, checked her makeup, joojed her hair, threw her purse strap over her left shoulder, then turned to me and said:

"Right, here I go."

BOOM!

Aaaand, that, my friends, was the sound of my heart…breaking.

"Ten..twenty…thirty…YEY, Mom, you want a donut? My treat!!!"

Call it divine intervention, or whatever, my kid (a.k.a. Countess D'Money) swears it's because someone, up there, somewhere, is just tired of watching me be soooooo stressed out, ALL the time, or something.

[shrugs]

I'm just very, very thankful to have celebrated a piece of my daughter's first step towards independence, followed by an impromptu and totally unscheduled hike through the park, together.

Oh, I then told Holly that I would let her drive, from now on, too…starting next week, of course…BOOM!

© 2003 – 2011 This Full House

Oh, almost forgot (I know, act surprised anyway, okay?) don’t forget to enter to win a $100 gift card to Dick’s Sporting goods courtesy of BlogHer and Gatorade Moms! Click here for details!

June 6, 2011
Twinkle, Twinkle Little…SOB!

Hope's 1st Band Concert 2011 from Liz Thompson on Vimeo.

FYI: Hope is my youngest and only one of all four of my kids to play in the school band. So, this is a FIRST…for the both of us…enjoy!!!

© 2003 – 2011 This Full House

June 1, 2011
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
Life Balance, Take 17
Yesterday, we attended an art show, held at a local bank, supporting art in schools, featuring two of Holly's pieces.

You can't really tell from my cell phone, however the majority of this pen and ink drawing is stippled, with tiny little dots.

I remember, because I can still hear the, "…dot, dot, dot, dot, dot, dot, dot, dot, dot, dot…" of her tapping the pen well into the night.

The same with this one,"…dot, dot, dot, dot, dot, dot, dot, dot, dot, dot…" which explains the permanent dent in the poor girl's right index finger.

This piece, however, is still her favorite, she says, because it's the first, of many she's created (dot, dot, dot, dot, dot, dot, dot, dot, dot, dot) taking inspiration from her own life, rather than that of another artist.

It's her vision…of herself…and, well, my inner-17-year-old totally relates to the juggling act going on in her head.

I mean, I am her mother.

As her mother?

To be honest, it made me a little sad to think, man, that still seems like A LOT of pressure, doesn't it?

Even more sadly, I started to over-analyze stuff, in my own head, like:
- Why is she putting bills above love?
- She's only 17.
- Perhaps she meant budget?
- Great, now she won't want kids.
- Can I blame her?
- No, I'm her mother.
- Should a 17 year old be thinking of this sort of stuff?
- I never did.
- Did I?
- Apparently not, see first bullet.
- Why aren't there any more foot holds?
I did ask her about the bills thing, considering that she may (or, may not) have read my last post.

That's when….

Warning: you're about to enter a proud mom-type blogging moment and, if this sort of stuff makes you itch, I don't blame you. However, considering that I am her mother, stuff like this just seems all the more amazing, you know, so indulge me this one time, okay?

….she quickly pointed out that the closest thing to her heart is family.

"Read from the bottom up, not the top."

TAKEAWAY: Seems we're ALL well passed refrigerator art and graduating into deeper, smarter waters, now.

[second glance]

GAH…quick, someone throw me a dingy, PLEASE!

© 2003 – 2011 This Full House
May 20, 2011