This Full House Archive

Tag: parenting teens and tweens

  • I Was Vlogging, Before Vlogging Was Cool

    Hopeytude

    I hollered at my youngest (she's 8, going on 16) like I never hollered at her, before, this morning.

    I mean, HOLLERED, like a tortured animal, causing the poor girl's eyes to go wide and, well, she ran out of the room, obviously NOT wanting to watch her mommy's head explode, for real!!!

    What did she do that was so awful?

    [bites lower lip]

    Honestly, I don't remember. 

    Was it reason enough to go WILD on the girl?

    Probably not.

    Whatever it was, suffice it say, I had reached my breaking point with the child and, well, though I never once thought about hurting her, physically (trust me, I know what THAT feels like) THIS MOMMY JUST NEEDS TO SHOUT OUT, every now and again.

    Later, in the carpool lane.

    "Do you know why I hollered at you, this morning?"

    [eyes go wide]

    "I made you mad?"

    Well, yes…and no…because, I suddenly realized that it wasn't what she did, or said, that made me angry (not, really) it was that she was STILL doing it and saying she wasn't, while I was trying to tell her, yah, she really was, and to STOP doing it.

    "Having to holler, to be heard, makes me mad."

    [bites lower lip]

    "I hate it when you holler."

    [shot to the heart]

    "Me, too."

    Morale of the Story:  Yes, children should be heard, just not today.

    Then again, in a blink of an eye, they grow up and you suddenly forget what they sounded like, when they were little.

    Unless, you find old videos, while searching through some computer files, she nearly corrupted. Aaaaaand, you just may be all, like, thank goodness you hollered at her to "STOP USING MOMMY'S LAPTOP" or, you would have totally NOT remembered this moment, either!

    [bites lower lip]

    Right…RIGHT?

    Liz@thisfullhouse signature

    © 2010 This Full House - All Rights Reserved.

  • Is It Any Wonder I’m Not the President of the PTO

    Apu's school picture

    My father's school picture, taken in Hungary, during the 1950's, when they used to call each other, "Comrade!"

    My in-laws turned me onto genealogy back in the 90's.  I still remember logging into AOL, taking a shower, making a cup of coffee, putting Heather (my middle girl) down for a nap and then quickly dusting the computer screen, or wiping up sticky spots on my desk — it took THAT long to load a page.

    Eventually, I added a few more kids to my family tree and, well, somehow the past took a backseat to planning for the future.

    Today, I find myself unable to think passed deciding on which dropoff/pickup lane makes the most sense or, depending on what school I'm at, just what in the heck is his/her teacher's name, anyway?

    Never mind, planning the next meal, without thinking, you know, this just may be my last.

    "No, Heather has field hockey and my soccer practice was yesterday!"

    Because, I swear, 3 days into the school year and it's already killing me.

    "Hey, but I need another notebook!"

    What?

    "Oh, me too and here's the extra stuff my teacher needs!"

    Huh?

    "Yeah, me too and did you remember to sign the good behavior contract?"

    Are you serious?

    "Yeah, me too and we HAVE to use book socks!"

    I thought recycling paper bags was a good thing?

    "Mom, are you okay?"

    No, I'm far from being okay.  In fact, I'm being held accountable for every little thing — like, each time my kid sneezes, passes gas or laughs out loud (LOL, for you kids in the back) in class — but, I realize that not everyone has 4 kids, attending 4 different schools, or is used to walking around in a perpetual state of confusion, like me.

    "Yeah, yeah, fine."

    Still, I can't help but wonder how my father's teacher would have reacted, if she received the following email:

    Dear Comrade Teacher,

    When dropping little **Jimmy off at school, I was surprised to learn that all the rumors were true.   

    I mean, there was absolutely no place to park and the car pool lane reached all the way out onto the highway — as far as Starbucks, even!  

    So, I parked in the next town over and walked little **Jimmy to the door, but couldn't get to it, because about 100 parents beat me to it.  

    Then, at the end of the day, the same thing happened, except, Jimmy came out a whole different door, from this morning and, well, I'm confused and **Jimmy is upset.  

    Yours truly,

    Comrade Parent

    **I don't know anyone named Jimmy.

    But, the rest of the stuff is true and I could have written to any one of the 4 schools my kids attend, really.

    "My teacher said that you can pick me up at the same door that you drop me off in."

    Phew…well, okay…glad that's over.

    "What's for dinner?"

    [blank stare]

    "Never mind."

    I mean, honestly, lunch is at 1:00 o'clock; how hungry can she be?

    "I forgot to eat my lunch, today."

    Never mind.

    [Edited to add:  Recycling paper bags is okay – in fact, using old Christmas wrapping paper as book covers is okay, too – phew, glad that's over!]

    Liz@thisfullhouse signature

    © 2009 This Full House - All Rights

  • She’s Got the POW-WAH!

    Peace, Love and Hope Goes All Zen!!!

    She may be small and she may only be 8 (although,the girl's got a mouth like a 13 year old, or what-evuh, Mom) but, I was once told by a psychic that my youngest daughter has "a very old soul."

    What?  She body-slammed me in the mall for a "quick reading" (the psychic, I mean, not Hopey) and well, it was for free, you know?

    "You'll find what you're looking for when you don't need it, anymore."

    Story of my life, really and it didn't take a psychic to convince me that my friend Melisa (with one S) was right, when she called, all the way from Chicago (because, blogging friends do that, for each other, sometimes) and helped me look for the season pass I lost, last week (no, she's not psychic, at least, I don't think she is, what-evuh) because, she found what she was looking for, right after seeing my post on Twitter and Facebook (because, I have no life) weird, right?

    I mean, Melisa (with one S) finding her stuff, RIGHT AFTER reading my Facebook page…

    [sound of crickets chirping]

    Aaaanyway, I never did find the pass (DAMMIT!) but, had no trouble getting a replacement (thank you, Great Adventure!) so, I dropped my two oldest at the park and took my two youngest to a nearby mall – just in case it rained, or something, since there were storms in the area.

    I may be a dork, but I'm not stupid, much.

    "Oh look, Mommy needs a new phone!"

    I stopped by the T-Mobile kiosk (because, I'm thinking about breaking up with Verizon) and was about to ask about their family plans, since we need to be adding another kid, or two, soon, damnit.

    "Don't touch the phones, baby."

    Too late.

    HUMMMMM…POW…ZAP!

    Hope poked one of the touch phones and ALL the lights went out in the ENTIRE mall!

    "OMG, what did you do?!?"

    If only I had taken a picture of Hope's face, right at that moment (another reason why I'm probably going to h-e-double hockey sticks, btw) because, I canNOT even begin to describe the absolute look of terror, you know, thinking that she broke the mall.

    "Well, touch it again and maybe the lights will come back on!"

    The T-Mobile dude was sweet and, if you were to ask me, was sort of cute, too.

    "Can I, Mom?"

    I maybe a dork, but I'm not raising stupid kids, much.

    "Sure, why not?"

    Aaaand, on the 50th day of summer vacation, Hope brought power back into the Freehold Mall and saw that the light was good.

    "I've got the POW-WAH!"

    I maybe a dork, but I'm a little scared that the girl is a bit paranormal, too.

    [phone rings]

    "They closed the park, can you come pick us up?"

    Aaaand, it seems to run in the family.

    [cue eerie music]

    Stupid psychics!

    Liz@thisfullhouse signature

    © 2009 This Full House – All Rights Reserved.

  • Garth [not his real name] Exposed and Nearly Emasculated

    Garth and Me

    I've been blogging for nearly 6 years, now (I know, I'm old, shuddup!) but, this is the first picture I have ever posted of my husband, Garth [not his real name] EVER and it pretty much sums up his personality, perfectly. 

    Grossed out, yet?  Good.  Because, well, you WILL NOT buh-leeve the story I am about to tell you.

    Why?  Well, not only am I about to break another cardinal blogging sin, because, after 6 years, folks are finally beginning to question whether Garth [not his real name] really exists [waves to Amber] but, my husband has already told EVERYONE and his hairdresser, even (who happens to be a woman) about our attempts at an at-home-do-it-yourself vasectomy and went as far as showing ALL the women in his office, you know, the scar!

    Aaaaand, before I begin, this would be a terrific time for you to grab a warm
    (or, cool) beverage and for my MIL to click on ahead and read
    something…um…else.

    Go ahead, I'll wait.

    Is she gone?  Good.  Sorry mom, but this story is just too funny NOT to tell and, well, may even save a penis, or two.

    (more…)