This Full House Archive

Tag: parenting teens and tweens

I Blog, Facebook & Instagram: Therefore, I Remember
I left for BlogHer13 on July 24th and I haven't been home, since.

Okay, so I was home for a whole entire day and a half, before leaving for our first family summer vacation in, well, forever, giving myself enough time to:
- unload my suitcases
- wash clothes
- drop Doofus-Dawg off at his country canine cousins' house
- take my teens shopping for last minute vacation-y sort of stuff
- [deep breath, exhale]
- clean the house
- because, coming home from vacation to a messy house is worse
- and THEN reload suitcases all over again
In an attempt to ignore the pain in my lower back and the constant throbbing in my pinky toe — long story, short (you're welcome!) I fell down the stairs at Melisa's house and we were both surprised to learn that I had only broken my toe — I tried to focus on stuff to help keep me from passing out while dodging packs of squeeing tweens at Forever 21:
- I cannot WAIT to sloooooooooow down and disconnect
- to not have to worry about stuff other than whether it is low or high tide
- which directly affects where we park our beach chairs
- or not, whatevvvvvvvvvvvver
Guess what? Disconnecting is harder than you may believe — especially when traveling with teens, or pretending that social media has not become an important part of our life and perhaps not in the way that most people think.

(more…)
August 12, 2013
Got Teens? You’re Gonna Need a BIGGER Puke Bucket!

Yes, we have a puke bucket. Actually, it's a very large mixing bowl (HUGE!) and, well, I'm going to stop RIGHT THERE, as the imagery may be way too much for some folks to consider…right now…if ever.

Unless you have teens: where it isn't a family meal, until someone belts out a fart joke (or twenty) and then my youngest (who is turning twelve, this month, EEEEP!!!) begins a rather graphic discussion on the EXACT origin, destination and natural biography of every bodily function known to man/womankind.

Oh, hey! Hiya! Want to come to dinner?!? BYOPB!!!

Soooooo, aaaaaanyway, I feel it safe to say that there isn't very much left we parent-type folks can't handle…on a physical level, I mean.

On the other hand, emotionally and mentally, I am an absolute train wreck.

I'm talking full-frontal face-wipe, over here: which starts out as a face-palm, and then you just sort of try to drag your eyebrows…to your chin.

G'head, I'll wait.

Aaaaaand, there isn't a font BIG ENOUGH to accurately convey the "WTF?!?" feeling of helplessness…whenever you decide to stand back and NOT do anything…other than allow your kids to just…you know…grow up.

This weekend was one of those days.

Long story, short: contrary to what some parenting experts will tell you (I am SO NOT one of them, btw) there is a very, very, very and I mean very fine line (infinitesimal, even) of being able to tell the difference between typical growing pains AND something much more sinister.

Growing pains stink like wet poodle: sinister sucks wet, hairy donkey balls.

[passes puke bucket]

Even longer story, shorter (seriously, this vague-blogging is hard…YO!): it was a looooooooooong weekend of "WTF(s)?!?" up in here, my friends.

So, last night: I sat down at my desk in an effort to get a jumpstart on the week, when my oldest daughter walked in from work and all hell broke loose AGAIN!

"Alright, what happened?!?"

Except, this time they were ALL snort-laughing with each other and…YES!!!…along with their penchant for cracking off a joke at the most inopportune moments AND making the mistake of not taking into consideration that maybe NOT everyone they meet is a hugger…they get that from me, too.

"Holly got asked out at work!"

Okay, but how is that funny?!?

"She said NO!"

Okay, still NOT seeing the funny.

"Aaaaaand, when the guy turned to leave the shop, she hollered after him: but, THANK YOU!!!!"

The really funny part: her voice goes up a couple of octaves and she then starts to smile this big toothy sort of grin when she's nervous (or angry) which is EVEN funnier…because it totally sounds like you're getting a smackdown from Snow White.

"I was caught off guard, QUIT LAUGHING!!!"

The part where I really lost it: my son tried to mimick her; his voice is changing.

[throws arms up in the air, closes eyes and SCREAMS]

It's a roller coaster ride up in here, my friends…BYOPB!!!

© 2003 – 2013 This Full House

With a fan page on Facebook and everything!

June 3, 2013
Learning From Our Mistakes-101

Learning to walk his hard, learning to fall is even harder.

Please feel free to visit with me over at my Gone Shopping blog and read more about: why I can't help but feel that life would be a little easier if Learning From Our Mistakes-101 were a requirement, rather than an elective…for parents, too…when you have time, of course.

© 2003 – 2012 This Full House

October 11, 2012
I Give Good Face(s)

My husband, the kids and I were ALL having a nice, quiet, leisurely dinner at the dining room table the other night.

[blank stare]

Okaaaaay, so, maybe the kids weren't actually at the table.

[eyes go wide]

Fiiiiiiine, they were all out eating at other people's houses.

[taps foot]

Buuuuut, my husband and I were eating…uh…standing up.

[sound of crickets chirping]

Aaaaanyway, my husband was in the middle of telling me a story about something that happened at his work the other day and then ended it, very abruptly.

"What's the face for?"

[blink, blink]

Honestly, I wasn't even aware of my giving a face.

"Which face?"

I can't help it. Part of it stems from my being raised by Hungarians, a culture whose emotional heritability increases exponentially.

"THAT FACE, right there!"

Seems some of the kids were home…early…and immediately began to throw their mother (that would be me) right under the proverbial bus. Apparently, I have six (6) distinct faces, which they then began to categorize, thusly:

A = Awesome: For those moments of pure joy and one that I would hope most folks are probably pretty much used to seeing, right? RIGHT? Riiiiight.

B = Be Quiet: One I use when fighting my inner-12-year-old or trying REAL HARD to keep my mouth shut (shuddup!)

C = Catatonic: Believe it or not, this is one of my least expressive faces which, come to find out, is a clear sign that I am NOT listening.

D = DER!: I've got teenagers, enough said.

E = EWW: My most multi-functional expression and can be easily translated from,"What's that smell?!?" to "Meh, I've seen hairier!"

F = Fear Me: Thankfully, I don't use this one very often (DO NOT!) but, one my kids, my husband, the dog and whoever else manages to bring out the Jersey in me (YO!) fear the most.

Oh, and jackwagons who insist on double-parking in the drop-off lane, THIS is the one you'll most likely see from your review mirror, complete with its own personalized set of eye baggage and everything!

You feel me?

© 2003 – 2011 This Full House

September 28, 2011
I’m not over the hill — I’m just
stuck in a sand dune, or something!

This weekend, we were invited to stay with dear friends in Cape May where the kids and I got to hike through, up and over perhaps some of the biggest sand dunes, here, in Jersey!

The view from the top was breath-taking and totally worth the burning thighs and near-to-exploding ovaries (stupid midlife!) and, yet, the day was filled with bittersweet moments of regret, too.

I was sorry that my husband had to work (someone has too, right?) and missed our ode to Ralph Macchio.

Good thing my 15yo takes awesome photographs (not to mention, gives good glare) and, well, maybe I should just let her keep the frigalicious camera [one beat, two beats] naaaaah, I mean, really, learning how to share stuff is what we do best, here at Casa de Sticky Floors and Crunchy Feet.

This capture of my youngest daughter, however, made me realize just how GROWN these kids insist on, you know, growing.

Me, too. UGH! Then again, we hiked 4 miles on this day. Besides, after 17 years of raising kids and killer dust bunnies, well, life has a way of catching up on a person, everywhere.

Sort of like this cool light bulb I found; a little grazed on top and all rusty on the bottom (you're welcome!)

Yes, alright, I admit it, I'm old(ish) slightly overdone and perhaps a wee bit passed my freshness date, than your average blogging mom…I mean.

[borrows glare from 15yo]

I am, however, also very happy (AM SO!) especially, since the kids and I seem to be able to enjoy each others company.

Dare I say, even a little more, now, than when they were babies, maybe, because I'm not so worried about counting heads, or chasing after them, at the beach?

Aaaaand, okay, maybe my baby days ARE over (light bulb, rusted) but, my job, here, is far from done, my friend, and well, I'm just glad I remembered to pack my comfy sneakers.
And, maybe a snack…also, a cell phone…so, I can google the nearest bathroom…stupid beach, dumbass bladder!

© 2003 – 2011 This Full House

March 7, 2011
How Many Geico Commercials DOES it Take to Push ME Over the Edge?
Having spent the last few days recuperating from surgery (crankcase overhaul, overall, was successfully, THANKS!) only to be rushed back to the doctor's office with perhaps the worst bronchial infection, ever (SURPRISE!!!) THEN having to re-recuperate, while under the influence of prednisone (i.e. synonym for CRAZY) well, the last few days HAVE been an enlightening experience.

For example, stuff I learned while under the influence of prednisone:
- The definition of ironic: electing to go through total crankcase overhaul to aleve wicked pre-pre-menopausal symptoms (you're welcome!) and then being prescribed prednisone, which then induces hot flashes and cold sweats.
- Go figure, since my husband, Garth (not his real name) has referred to me in the past as his, "salty wench."
- To which, much to the HORROR of my children, I began singing, "Pour some Mustard on Me!" during dinner, yesterday.
- To which, Garth (not his real name) started hiding the sharp stuff.
- My husband, Garth (not his real name) would make someone a WONDERFUL wife (fuhgehtaboutit, I'm keeping him!)
- Watch those Geico commercials enough times (especially, that one up there) and they actually start looking, you know, pretty funny.
This one, however, makes me kinda sorta want to cut someone, actually!!!

I rest my case, stupid steroids.

DISCLOSURE: This post is in NO WAY an endorsement for Geico and…NO!…I am NOT going to actually cut someone, for real. Besides, I am NOT allowed to use sharp stuff (remember?) not until I at least finish my prescription…Thanksgiving Day.

Why…YES!…yes, we ARE hosting Thanksgiving dinner this year; why, you want to come over?

C'mon, there's ALWAYS room for one more [cough…cough] CRAZY [cough…cough] and we could REALLY, REALLY use some more mustard!

UPDATED TO ADD: Ventured out for 1st time in almost a week without incident (YAY!) Only to trip in living room & bust up my knee cap while getting a jump start on Thanksgiving cleaning. Don't worry, Garth (not his real name) ripped me a new one for it. #iklutz

© 2003 – 2010 This Full House Blog
November 22, 2010
Worming HIS Way Into Motherhood

Having been my children's primary care provider (i.e. Mom) for the last 17 years (I know, I'm old, SHUDDUP!) I look forward to impromptu school holidays, like Columbus Day, when I don't have to cook, clean or do anything special (like, cook or clean) normally associated with celebrating more traditional gift-giving and feasting-type holidays.

I kind of get excited when my husband, Garth (not his real name) happens to have the day off, too!

Still.

Working from home does have its disadvantages.

"When is So-and-So and What's Her Name coming over, again?"

We're helping a couple of friends out by sitting their kids, today (what's two more, right?) and by we…of course…I mean, Garth (not his real name!)

"I'm going to make a worm box!"

Aaaaand, I have to be honest, I am feeling a little threatened at the moment.

"Cool, can we help!"

Honestly, a worm box?

So, I went outside (seeing as I showered, got dressed and everything) to take a look at this fantastical worm box.

Aaaaand, not ONLY is it a fantastical way to get kids outside (so, mommy can get a jump start on a couple of writing projects this week) not to mention, actually convincing them that something low-tech, like digging for worms is, you know, fun (their names are Jeffrey, Skittles and Bob) but, Garth (not his real name) got a chance to demonstrate his multi-tasking skills, by cleaning out my shredder, too.

DAMMIT!

"Do you need any clean clothes for your trip, tomorrow?"

Aaaand, I'm okay with that AND totally crushing on my husband's feminine side…today!

(Disclosure: Garth (not his real name) just reminded me that my son and his friend wanted nothing to do with the outdoors and now they are ALL folding socks.)

Boys, however, ARE stewpid!

(Disclosure: I was able to convince the boys that…yeah…they REALLY would probably rather be outside, too.)

I win!

© 2010 This Full House Blog / This Full House Gone Shopping

October 11, 2010
This is What it Sounds Like, When Butterflies Cry

This is what 6:15 a.m. looks like, in Jersey!

The morning came quickly, as it usually does to a seasoned (i.e. perpetually perplexed and severely sleep-deprived) parent (like me) and, unlike most mornings, I let the dog out, while my husband started the coffee (bless his squishy heart) and we both continued to pretend like last night did NOT happen.

"She's in tears."

Long story, short (you're welcome) unlike her 3 siblings, today is the 1st day of school for my middle girl.

"What DID you say to her?"

Suffice it to say, I've earned yet ANOTHER ✔ mark in reasons why I make OTHER mothers look good (really, don't mention it!) by upsetting my daughter to the point of tears, on the night before her 1st day of high school.

"She started it!"

Did I forget to mention, her mother also happens to have the emotional maturity of a 9 year-old?!?

SLAM!

So, rather than expose my children to further examples of what NOT to do, for which I'm hoping their future significant others will thank me for, later (probably not) I took a self-imposed time out on our front porch.

Did I forget to mention, our front porch is NOT screened in, or the fact that I absolutely DESPISE bugs?!?

GAH!

So, rather than risk being eaten by mutant moths (Mothra lives!) I swallowed my mommy pride and slunked back into the house.

SLUNK!

"Can I talk to you, Mom?"

Long story, short (yeah, I know, I lied) we ARE a lot alike (my 14 year-old and me, I mean) and we were both just stressed out (to the MAX) by the fact that, you know, she is going into high school.

"Don't worry, Sweetie, you'll be just fiiiine!"

Boy, if I had a dollar for each time I lied (like that) well, you know.

"But, you're so far away, Mom!"

Did I forget to mention, she was accepted into a career academy, that happens to be 25 miles away (i.e. approx. 30 minutes, if you're from Jersey) and that the bus picks her up at 6:25 a.m.?!?

"Doesn't anybody stay in one place, aaaaanymore?!?"

[blank stare]

"It would be SO FINE to see your face at my door…"

[blink, blink]

"…doesn't help to know, that you're so…"

Did I forget to mention, whenever faced with a difficult parenting situation, under extreme pressure, I often break into song.

"Okay, you can STOP singing now!"

If only it were THAT easy.

Kindergarten Halloween Parade 2001

"Long ago I reached for you, and there you stood…"

Freshman in High School 2010

"Holding you again could only do me good…how I wish I could, but you're so far away…AND, I know you love me, aaaaaanyway."

[bites lower lip]

Okay, I added that last part in, but Heather and me, yeah, we're good (for now) and PLEASE don't tell her, or the part about her mother being SUCH a dork.

[heavy sigh]

Because, she's MY daughter and…trust me, she already knows…bless her squishy little heart!!!

© 2010 This Full House / This Full House Gone Shopping

September 7, 2010
The 11th First Day of School

"Wait, let me take your picture!!!"

My 11 year-old son (the ONLY boy in the house, btw) is smiling, but inside I know that he was all, like, JEEZ!

"CRAP! Wait, it's too dark!"

Frankly, the kid has lived with me long enough to know that, you know, it's just easier to pretend EVERYONE'S mother is a dork (like me) especially, on the first day of school.

"Okay, now, smile!"

DAMMIT! Hang on. Can I just, you know, UGH!!! Wait a minute. Is he? Nooooo. Who am I kidding? Maybe he was just wiping some leftover sleep from his eye. Or, a bug flew up his nose (it COULD happen) still, it would be nice to think that my kids, you know, like having me around, kind of, sort of, too.

"Wait, let me take your picture!!!"

My youngest daughter (she's 9) was packed and ready to start school, a couple of weeks ago and, no, I can't say as I blame her.

"CRAP! Wait, it's too light!"

She's the last of my kids to ever enter the 4th grade and, I'm sorry, but I just don't remember the other 3 ever looking THIS little.

"Okay, now, smile!"

DAMMIT! They just NEVER wait, anymore, do they? Maybe she was feeling sorry for her baby sister (ahem) or, because she's a freshman now and doesn't start HER high school until next week (SOB!) still, it would be nice to think that my kids, you know, really do like each other, kind of, sort of, too.

"Wait a minute…"

[scrolls thru cell phone]

"…who did I forget?"

DAMMIT! I'm just NOT ready to admit that MY OLDEST IS A JUNIOR IN HIGH SCHOOL!!! Maybe, it was just WAY too early in the morning and I couldn't find my phone (it COULD happen) still, it would be nice to think that she already knows, after ALL these years, I love her, just the same.

Wait a minute!

Does a "night before school starts" picture of my coloring her hair count for at least something?!?

[sound of many crickets, chirping]

Besides, the fact that, you know, YES, I am one of THOSE moms and, well, there could be worse things.

[ducks lightning bolt]

Like, she could have a mother stupid enough to actually leave that picture (up there) on Flickr, right?

[cricket]

Riiiiiight. Wait a minute. She DOES read my blog. D'OH! Never mind.

© 2010 This Full House / This Full House Gone Shopping

September 3, 2010
When You Give a Doofus-Dawg a Watermelon

Doofus-Dawg on Watermelon

I love my dog. Truly, I do. Most of the time. He is a rescue. They found him tied to a dumpster. I can only imagine his life, b.u. (before us) still, there ARE pretty good reasons why we also refer to Rudolph as Doofus-Dawg (a.k.a. Pinhead) and why my husband, Garth (not his real name) texted me, while I was having dinner with the kids at my folks' house, last night.

"Wet sticky spot on living room rug, trail of dried juice on kitchen floor, watermellon gone, dish appears not to have broken, I'm not speaking to the dog."

Yes, he spelled watermelon wrong, so, I knew he WAS, you know, pretty angry.

"Where r u?"

Aaaand, I didn't answer him (right away) because, you know, I was THE ONE who left the watermelon on the counter.

"Why is the floor SO sticky?"

My son (he's 11 and, besides the dog and cat, is the ONLY boy in the house) woke up in a HORRIBLE mood, this morning.

"Rudolph ate some watermelon, last night."

Aaaand, he seems to be paying for it (see photo above) too.

"Ah, man, you kiddin' me, who left the watermelon out?"

Apparently, he wanted some.

"Um…Daddy DID!"

Relax. One good rescue deserves another, right? Besides, I'll tell him the truth, later (maybe) suffice it to say, I'm the one that has to live with the boy, for the next 8 hours, or so.

"AH, MAN!!!"

School starts tomorrow…THANKGAWD…stupid dog!!!

© 2010 This Full House / This Full House Gone Shopping

September 1, 2010