This Full House Archive

Tag: Raising teens

NaBloPoMo 2015: Under Pressure

Our youngest daughter is not a fan of hospitals. Not that anyone we know is all…yay, we’re going to the hospital!!!!…or anything…but if she were to measure up with her three siblings, when it comes to being squeamish, Hope has succesfully unlocked the “Holy Crap, I’mma Throw Up!” achievement medal at the age of 8.

If it is associated in any way, shape or form to the medical profession, she will work herself into a full blown anxiety attack and then projectile vomit all over your nice, crisp, white medical lab coat — you’re welcome!

At fourteen, it bothers her to no end whenever someone suggests she is simply being dramatic and clearly that someone has never witnessed anyone projectile vomit…like a boss.

Long story short: I’ve been taking medication for hypertension and monitor my blood pressure, regularly. And Hope had a breakthrough while visiting my Dad at the rehab center, where she actually walked inside, passed all the medical equipment and headed straight into my Dad’s room, without throwing up.

Hope: Can you take my blood pressure?

It’s the little moments, when your child opens herself up and attempts to control her fears, that make me agree to do things without thinking on it, too much.

Me: Sure, pull up a seat!

I gently wrapped the blood pressure machine’s cuff around her arm and reminded her that it would slowly inflate.

[turning machine on]

It began to inflate and my precious, beautiful and ever so brave daughter began to lose her shit.

Hope: It’s not stopping…it’s NOT stopping…MOM…IT’S NOT STOPPING…AHHHHHH…MAKE IT STOP…GAAAAAAAH!!!!!

10 seconds later, it stopped.

Hope: Huh, that wasn’t soooo bad, how’d I do?

[leaning over the machine]

Me: All things considered, your blood pressure isn’t too bad at all.

Hope: GRIN!

Me: You’re heart rate, on the other hand, is 128.

Hope: Yeah, BUT I didn’t throw up!

End scene.

November 6, 2015
Toiletexting: It’s A Real Problem – At Our House, Anyways!

I started blogging in 2003 (with 4 kids home all under the age of 10) and I remember how most of my mom and dad friends (at the time) thought I was soooooooo crazy, because who has the time…really?!?

Photo of my Mom with her grandrugrats, taken circa 2003 B.P. (before picmonkey)

They were right, of course! Those were some crazy-busy daze, my friends! On the other hand, blogging was (and still is) cheaper than therapy.

And then Facebook happened (i.e. one of the top ten BIGGEST time sucks in internet history) and now we can ALL meet up for some coffee (or cawfee, if you're from Jersey), rather than wave at each other as we attempt to maneuver our way OUT of a school parking lot (I don't miss having to do school drop-offs and pick-ups anymore, NOT ONE BIT) and now we can discuss parent-type things…on the internet…in our pajamas…from the privacy of our own bathrooms and everything…YO!!!

Looking back on it now, I kind of…sort of…almost…miss those crazy-busy daze…but living in a house with 3 teens and 2 other adults can get really weird, too!!!

Most especially when one of them texts you…from the bathroom.

I was warming up the car to take our youngest to school, because they haven't shoveled the bus stop (which is a whole OTHER blog post!) and, well, standing out in 13 degrees…with a wind chill of minus HOLY CRAP IT'S COLD…would make me have to go to the bathroom, too!

Moral of the Story: Teens are REAL DEEP sleepers and GAHDFUHBID one of them replaces the toilet paper!

By the time I got back inside the house, Holly was already awake and had gotten her baby sister some toilet paper. And I would have been MORE pissed about it…if it weren't for the fact that…after getting out of the car and going back into the cold…I also had to go to the bathroom…like REAL bad, too…YO!!!

[sound of crickets, sighing]

Dumbass polar vortex, stupid weak bladder!

February 19, 2015
There’s a Reason Why They Don’t Call It Womenpause

Menopause. It's such an unattractive word. Let's be honest. What was the FIRST thing that came to mind when reading the word…MENOPAUSE…hot flashes…mood swings…old lady disease, maybe?

No one really likes to talk about…ahem…she who shall not be named…and I don't blame anyone visiting with us right now…especially, for the first time…for wanting to click away, at this very moment.

Because ain't nobody got no time to just sit around and think about how bad they feel about stuff…especially women…let alone, blog about it.

On the other hand: I've just entered my 12th year of blogging, so my kids are much older than your average parent-type blogger, which means I'm now in the "as close to forgotten without actually getting there" demographic, but my writing philosophy has pretty much remained the same.

I only share the stuff I would feel comfortable talking about…in front of my teens…or meeting someone, for the very first time.

"Could you talk about THAT…in ANOTHER room…please?!?!"

On the OTHER other hand: Apparently, I feel WAY more comfortable about talking in front of my teens…than my teens do…even though I wasn't really talking in front of them, when telling a good friend of mine one of my favorite transvaginal ultrasound stories…per say.

"Nooooo, I can't say transvaginal five times real fast!!!"

But, I try anyway.

"We can STILL hear you!"

Unfortunately for my teens, we live in a small house and my voice carries.

Right. So. Point being (because I do have one, it's in here, somewhere…OH YEAH…moving on) 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.

Okay, so while we wait for other folks to click away — I really don't talk about this stuff all that often, so I really do hope you consider coming back and please make sure to give the storm door a real good tug on your way out, because it sticks, that's what SHE said! — did I ever tell you about the time my uterus broke the ultrasound machine?!?!

SLAM!!!!

Now that we're alone. Last year, I was diagnosed with adenomyosis and there is nothing funny about this real painful, sucky part of perimenopause! Unless, you happened to be in the same room with me during an ultrasound and I'm feeling really, really uncomfortable about it.

"We're going to do the regular ultrasound first."

Because they make you drink A LOT of water before an ultrasound and, well, ultrasound technicians aren't exactly thrilled about the idea of you pee-ing…oh, sorry…I mean…urinating all over the examining room…either…still, I nearly kissed the ultrasound technician on the mouth, because I had to urinate THAT BADLY!

"There's a gown in the bathroom, put it on and I'll be back in just a few minutes!"

And when the ultrasound technicians tell you "There's a gown in the bathroom" what they really mean is look for the really long (and wide) sheet of pink glorified toilet paper.

[sound of a really long and wide sheet of pink glorified toilet paper, ripping]

ProTip: When it comes to womanly issues, it's easier if you just check your dignity in at the door.

Now the next real sucky part about waiting for a transvaginal ultrasound…is the waiting…I'm not very good at waiting…for anything…I get bored real easy and start looking around the room for stuff to read.

"Oh look, a uterus!"

Because, 4 babies…I kind of…sort of…know what one looks like.

"With a giant cluster of BLAH sitting…[squinting at ultrasound screen]…right there…OMG!!!…no WONDER this shiznit hurts SO MUCH…look at the size of that…wait a minute."

This particular cluster of BLAH had what looked like tiny arms and maybe even…

"OMG…IS THAT A HEAD!!!"

The ultrasound technician came back into the room just in time to find me with my nose glued to the ultrasound machine and tracing what looked like…

"Is…that…a…BABY?!?!"

Did you hear it? The two remaining gray cells in my brain EXPLODE?

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!!

"Ummmm, that's NOT your ultrasound scan!"

Aaaaand, I don't believe I've ever been SO HAPPY to be in the "as close to forgotten without actually getting there" demographic…as I am…RIGHT NOW…not to mention…I may be the only person who's ever giggled her way through a transvaginal ultrasound…yo!!!

Moral of the Story: Don't go reading other people's ultrasounds!!!

Aaaaaand to the person to whom this ultrasound scan truly belongs: CONGRATULATIONS!!!!…you have a beautiful uterus!!!

[sound of crickets, chirping]

Stupid ultrasounds, dumbass menopause.

Updated to add: The doctor's office called me, while in the middle of writing this post, to give me the results of the ultrasound — not pregnant, but there's a cyst on my right ovary and I need to go back for yet ANOTHER transvaginal ultrasound in 6 weeks…you know…for extra BLAH!

Can't wait to see whose ultrasound I'll be reading next…NOT!!!

February 12, 2015
One Flew INTO the Cuckoo’s Nest

Today started out not so great, however, I was mentally prepared for it (living with 3 teens, a 20-something-year-old and not sleeping very well, having agonized over ALL the things, last night), because there's always a fair amount of crazy going on at our house and I am a fully-functional worry wart.

Heather: Holly has an interview, so you're taking me to work, right?

There's a long and very convoluted story of why Heather doesn't have her driver's license, yet. It's not my story to tell. Suffice it to say, spring cannot come quick enough.

Me: Yup!

[looks out window]

BAH!, it's snowing like crazy.

Because I'm a…BAH!!! It's snowing like crazy!!!…sort of driver. Then the car broke down and then something broke in my head. You know, the type of broke that makes your nose run, while you stare at absolutely nothing, and a long line of spit starts to form…from your chin…to your chest.

Or am I the only one who has broken head, runny nose and spit-forming-from-your-chin-to-your-chest-type moments?

So, yeah, I was feeling very, very sorry for myself, when I heard the bird hit the backdoor.

BONK!!!!!

Heather: OH NO, IS IT DEAD?!?

My middle girl was working from home (because the car broke and then MOM'S HEAD BROKE!) and we both just stood at the back door, staring at this poor little bird, lying on its stomach with its legs all splayed out and its face stuck in the snow.

Me: Well, its legs are moving.

But the poor bird seemed to be having trouble lifting its head from out of the snow.

Me: Maybe it just knocked the wind out of itself.

I know…I personally would've been all…HOLY CRAP!!!…who put that door there, dammit?!?

So, I reached down, picked it up, held the poor thing in my hands and stroked the top of its head…while the snow dripped from its beak…in a light shade of pink.

Heather: Look, Mom is being all Snow White.

Not really, I was wearing pajamas, but it was snowing.

Me: He's breathing a bit funny, but his eyes are open, I don't want to scare it.

I wiped the snow from the back step and gently placed him down.

Me: We'll just have to let nature take its course.

I mean, it's a bird. Birds don't live that long, anyway. Right? Flying into stuff or getting eaten by something bigger. What are you going to do? It's survival of the fittest.

Me: FRIG THAT!

I grabbed some lint from the dryer (there's always plenty to share!) and placed it under the bird.

Me: There, now his belly won't be cold.

The bird was still awake, but not moving much, besides flexing his tail feathers.

Heather: Maybe we can put him in a basket and hang him up high, so the hawk doesn't get him.

GOOD IDEA!!! I grabbed one of the baskets from the kitchen, lined it with some more dryer lint, gently placed the bird inside and hung the basket right outside the backdoor.

Now, mind you, both Heather and I were running around the house…looking for just the right basket…and more lint…during this entire time…with the dog running right behind us…because BIRD!!!

And then Melisa called.

Me: OMG! We're trying to save a bird!

Melisa has visited with us a couple of times (most recently, this past October) so she's used to the crazy. Aaaaand she can pretty much follow along (for better or worse) whenever I crazy-talk.

The poor bird…I couldn't just let it die…it DESERVES a chance to live…I'M GOING TO SAVE THIS BIRD, DAMMIT!!!…and she kept listening, because she is a good friend, like that.

Heather: I think it's moving around!

So she stepped outside to take a closer look…

Heather: OH!!! It just flew away!!!

Then something else broke in my head and I started crying into the phone. And then my daughter wanted to know why I was crying?

Me: Because…[sniff-sniff]…I already started writing this blog post…[wiping nose]…in my head…[sniff-sniff]…with two alternate endings.

I like this ending MUCH better, because that's EXACTLY how my mind works and welcome to my brain!

Melisa: IT'S A SIGN!!!!

Aaaaand, then my day started to get MUCH better.

Me: Now If only I could come up with a good title!

Blog post title inspiration, courtesy of Melisa.

January 9, 2015
The Gifts That Keep On Giving!

I loved whenever my kids would bring their school projects home and, considering we've had a kid in preschool, grade school, middle school or high school since 1996, we have certainly collected a fair amount of "pretties" over the years.

Every now and again, I'll find a construction paper greeting card tucked deep in between some books or reach for a pen and grab one with a plastic daisy (my favorite flower) taped to the end of it and I'll remember…ohhhhh, yeah…this was the Mother's Day card Glen made me and that is the pen that Hope gave me one Christmas.

In fact, these 4 little clay pots are the first thing I see…every morning…stacked by oldest to youngest, from top to bottom, all dusty and everything.

Ask me what we ate 2 nights ago and I'll give you an epic………[blank stare]……..oh, wait a minute…I just blogged it, like yesterday…haaaaaaaaang…onnnnnnnnnn…okay, it was my favorite go to family meal: Hungarian Beef (Pork, Lamb or Chickent) Stew!

[blink-blink, blows bangs out of eyes, blink-blink]

Soooooo, point being (because I really do have one) I've got a real super-selective memory.

Me: Can I use your really pretty tea-infuser cup?

I've been trying to cut down on my coffee consumption. That's right, I said it! Because I've recently got hooked on drinking loose tea (I blame Melisa!) and I couldn't remember where in the heck I put my little plastic infuser, but found my daughter's really prettiful tea cup with lid and everything!

Holly: You mean, YOUR really pretty tea-infuser cup?

…….[blank stare]……..

Holly: I gave it to you for Christmas, 3 years ago!

Ohhhhhhhh, isn't that niiiiiiice?!?………[blank stare].…….AAAAAAAAND I LOVE IT!!!

January 8, 2015
Free labor!

I was pregnant with our oldest daughter when Garth (not his real name) and I bought our house, which makes for an awesome timeline…because our oldest daughter turned 21 in November…and now I don't have to worry about doing too much math, to figure out that we bought this house 21 years ago and…YES!!!…I'm an awesome planner, like that.

3 more kids later, not so much.

This house was supposed to be our starter home. What?!? Okay, fine. I guess it's safe to say that we're just really sloooooooooooow starters…ahem…aaaaaanyway, a modest 3 bedroom home would fit us perfectly.

3 more kids later, not so much.

Now that the kids are mostly grown and 2 are very nearly out of the house, there's really no reason for us to upgrade to a larger home. See how that ALL worked out?!? Besides, our 3 girls have grown used to sharing a bedroom for this long, what's another year or twenty, right?!?

Note to our girls, if any of you are reading this post right now: that was totally a rhetorical question.

Anyway, here's the really, really, best…I mean like totally AWESOME…part of having ALL 4 kids STILL living at home:

It's 38 degrees and sunny out, ALL HANDS ON DECK!

FREE LABOR, enough said! Oh, and if you're wondering where kidlet #4 is?

Hope likes to organize stuff, she gets it from her Dad!

I've put her organizational skills to good use — she's already gone through the ENORMOUS stack of filing that's been piling up since I don't remember when and is waiting for permission to shred!

The Christmas tree, on the other hand, will most likely stay up until around sometime in February…because I'm also easy-breezy, like that.

©2003 – 2015 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! Also, I'm attempting to blog EVERY DAY in 2015, I hope it lasts! #TFH365

January 2, 2015
He’s Army Strong, Mom’s Still in Training

As a child, I remember reading about the Declaration of Independence in history class and quietly smiling to myself, thinking…THIS!…this is why my family is here.

"Mom, I want to enlist into the military."

But I cannot think of too many words, other than those my 15 year-old son has been saying, since he was 4 years-old, that can simultaneously fill my heart with joy AND feel as if someone or something is trying to dig its way out of my chest, one spoonful at at a time.

"I spoke with an Army recruiter during Career Day."

And yet, in the last few months, I have heard very little else.

"I told them I want to be an Army Engineer."

My heart is about ready to burst both with pride and dread, all over my face.

Glen at his Uncle Bud's deployment ceremony, 2004.

Here's the thing, encouraging my 4 year-old that…YES!…Army dudes are indeed awesome, is easy — especially, since he idolizes his grandfather (my dad immigrated to the U.S. in 1956) and his favorite super hero happens to be my brother, Uncle Bud the Army dude.

"And I told them that I plan on joining ROTC, next year."

Keeping every deep, dark and terribly awful fear imagineable from creeping out of my heart and slithering its way up onto my face, not so much.

"I'd like to visit West Point, can we go?"

So, my husband and I took a road trip, with just our son.

Most gorgeous views of the Hudson River Valley, EVUH!

The weather was absolutely gorgeous, perfect fall day with temperatures in the 60's (my favorite!), but it was also a bittersweet day; for Garth (not his real name) and me, I mean.

I have lots of pictures of trees, they comfort me.

This post has been in my head for a very long time. It's still very hard to put the words together, because this is not about politics (I'm not that smart) and I'm not looking for a philosophical debate on history or religion (I'm not that clever, or awake, probably).

Day out with our future soldier, he's been wanting to visit West Point since he was chin height.

A photo posted by Liz Thompson (@thisfullhouse) on Oct 10, 2014 at 10:26am PDT

I'm just a mom, who loves her child(ren) with every ounce of her being, who's trying…really, really hard…to raise my kids to be…well…MUCH smarter, than me.

Battle Monument, West Point

Now that they're grown (mostly) and can pretty much think for themselves (see previous parenthesis), I can tell you EXACTLY what the hardest part of raising teenagers is: trying NOT to feel as if you're losing control of…well…every thing.

We are smiling, AM SO!

It's hard sometimes, you know? Pretending to be fearless. Especially for someone who wears her heart on her sleeve…[raises hand]…not without leaving a permanent dent on my face, I mean.

I'm not going to lie, I'm proud AND scared as hell, you guys.

BUT! I'm going to continue to try really, really hard to stay strong; even though I know, that my kids know, I'm about a backstroke away from drowning in my own feelings.

"Thanks for bringing me, this was a good day."

Because, in my head, I can't help but see him as that same little towheaded 4 year-old…running around…always with the running…wearing his favorite Power Rangers sneakers, pretending to be a super hero…like his Uncle Bud.

He's an evil child, this one!

Upside of raising teens: when they grow independent enough to cook for themselves and start making you fried Oreos and stuff…yo!

©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!

October 21, 2014
Did I ever tell you about the time I tried to sell my twin brother, in kindergarten?!?!
It was the first day of kindergarten. My grandmother dropped us off at the front door and I still remember my begging her to take me back home with her.

It's not like the school would miss me, there were tons of other kids waiting in line AND none of them had a twin brother…like I do.

My brother, however, was totally on board with kindergarten — because the school had a playground and naptime was mandatory. How bad COULD it be?

Still. I had this plan:
- We would alternate going to school.
- My brother would go on Monday, Wednesday and Friday.
- I would do Tuesdays and Thursdays.
- WHAT?!? He liked school way better, remember?
- On our days off, we would help my grandmother with the housework.
- On weekends, my brother and I would teach each other what we learned.
Aaaaaaand, if that didn't work, I would then try and sell my brother to them…for free!

Brrrrrrrrrrrrriiiiiiiiing.

Too late. The bell rang, my brother and I were separated and I followed Mrs. Rivers into her classroom; it smelled of wet chalkboard and paste.

"Why are you smelling the Play Doh, Mommy?"

I have very few childhood memories, that aren't triggered by some sort of smell or taste (no, I did NOT eat the paste…they were using Elmer's glue!) so dropping each of my kids off for their first day of Kindergarten was a WHOLE DIFFERENT experience.

"Feel free to go home now, Mrs. Thompson."

For ALL of us.

"Duuuuude, we were listening to the radio at the office."

I was driving home with my 18yo…or maybe it was to the doctor's office…wait, no, I think we were picking up her 20yo sister at work…because her car was in the shop…AGAIN!…and WHEN in the stinking heck did THESE KIDS get old enough to drive AND work…**sniff-sniff**…my sense of smell is not what it used to be, either…doesn't matter.

"Aaaaaaand, the ladies were all SHOCKED when I started singing along!"

Not that she's shy (stop laughing, Melisa!) and she works with a very lovely bunch of ladies…all moms…around my age.

"They wanted to know how and why an 18yo would love 80's music so much?!?"

Raising 4 teens (okay, fine, you caught me, the oldest is in her 20's, I'm in denial!) a lot of people have asked me about the hardest part of being a parent and I tell them the same thing: forgetting that I'm supposed to be the adult!

"I told them how you would play 80's music in the car, picking us up and dropping us off at school, every day."

See?!? I can fake being an adult, real good!!!

"Aaaaaand, I told them how we would ALL sing together REAL LOUD with the windows wide open and everything!"

This, my friends, I'm claiming as a parenting win…right there…yes?!? And it's all because this song came on the radio:

She gets it from me. OH!!! Aaaaaand, then…there was this one time in Kindergarten…when I tried sell my twin brother…but you know that story, already…right?!?

The end.

©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!
August 22, 2014
Tips and Tricks To Make Life Easier For You and Your Teen: a guest post by my almost-13yo.

I've been busily training for a couple of new jobs (a much needed and very appreciated couple of new jobs!) so my youngest daughter was kind enough to offer her services and guest blog for me, this week.

Aaaaand, since I've already failed (miserably!) at posting every day for #NaBloPoMo, I took the kid up on her offer and told her to have at it 🙂

So, she came up with this, unedited and totally in her words:

Hey hi hey…most of you know me as the youngest person in the thisfullhouse family. If you don’t know me then I’m Hope. I’m turning 13 in two months. If you’re a parent and you have a teen or many teens like the mom of thisfullhouse here are some tips and tricks to make you and your teen's life a lot easier.

Remember these are all totally true facts coming from a teen sooooo yeah.

1. Make sure they have a book to read or get into…I went a couple years thinking I hated books and here I am having 82 books/series I want to read. This is NOT an exaggeration.

2. Make sure you have lots of tea and coffee in your house. If your teen is upset about something tea is the best thing. One of the best things my sister makes me is chai hot chocolate. You make chai tea and mix in a little hot chocolate for a new world to be open in front of your very own eyes.

3. Let them listen to what ever music they want and let them dress how they want. It doesn’t matter what they dress like or listen to, but if they start to dress a little too badinkadinky let them face the consequences.

4. Let them learn from their mistakes. It’s the best way for them to figure out what they’re doing wrong, and fix it themselves. It will also show you just how responsible we teens can be. So it’s practically a win-win situation going on.

5. On those nights where you just want to be alone with that special someone 😉 schedule a sleepover at your teen’s friend’s house. The two friends can have fun together and you can be with that special person of yours ;) Remember at the friend’s house. If your house you will be bothered for tis and that here and there and be bombarded with millions of questions. And remember I am a professional.

6. Have a certain day to hang out with them just you and your teen. Make a movie night at your house, or go out for coffee, or go on a walk, a jog, a run, whatever you want.

7. Whenever your teen says ‘whatever’ or ‘I don’t care’ just know that they really do care and they are just trying to cover it up or hide it from you to act “cooler”. This especially happens around friends; don’t worry it happens to every parent you’re not doing anything wrong.

8. Lastly, GIVE THEM SPACE. If they are having a problem or trouble with something, no matter what it be, GIVE THEM SPACE.

Try these tips and see for yourself. Good luck!

Yep, the kid is WAY smarter than me. The only thing I would add: yes, you should also totally consider yourselves lucky…if and whenever your teen allows you to take a picture of the back of their head…YO!!!

©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!

April 18, 2014
When a teen slams a door, somewhere a local home center has just made another sale.

The funny thing about raising teens (by funny I mean less ha-ha-ha and more what-the-huh?!?) is all the stuff you thought you knew about parenting…just stop it, right now…because kids have this really innate ability of having you question almost every move you make, to be totally wrong, probably.

Personally, my inner-12-year-old would LOVE to have me forget that I am the parent, take over the situation and let's play a little verbal dodge ball, while where at it.

This morning, it's the door slamming.

SLAM!!!!

Sets my nerves on edge and don't worry, both my husband and I will give the door slammer a second chance to try again or the door goes away. It works for us. The front door, however, is a different story.

4th grade: one of the last times when they remember how to close the door, quietly.

Our youngest child lost her cell phone privileges, this morning. Doesn't really matter why. She probably doesn't even remember, okay neither do I. But that's not the point I'm trying to make, here, because I really do have one.

[blows bangs out of eyes, stares out the window]

Oh yeah, right. So, my husband and I were watching the weather channel (it's how we bond in the mornings, don't judge!) when we hear our youngest coming into the room…from three rooms away…for being as small as she is…she's got a VERY HEAVY FOOT.

[stomp-stomp-stomp]

And then leave.

Garth (not his real name): Have a nice day!

[STOMP-STOMP-STOMP!]

Me: Love you!

This is the part where you would probably hear the door…SLAM!!!…if we hadn't invested in that thingie that keeps the storm door from bashing into the door jam…hang on, let me ask Mr. Google, okay it's called…a door check, years ago.

[the whooshing sound of a door…closing…very…very…slowly]

Me (to my husband): I think we handled that pretty well, you?

Long story, short: raising teens is hard, but being an emotional and moral compass is even harder… YO!

Got teens? Don't have a door check? Get one!!!

©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!

April 11, 2014