This Full House Archive

Tag: raising teens and tweens

  • All Grown Up, Still Needs Huh Muh-Thuh!

    Remember when I was all, like "WAH!" I am officially a mother of an 18 year-old (a.k.a. a fully-grown adult) and you all were, like:

    "Really?" 

    "Aaaaand, you've only had 18 years to prepare?"

     "Get over it, already!"

    Or, maybe it was just the voices in my head (okay, you guys, shuddup for a second!)

    Then again, raising 4 kids (not to mention, killer dust bunnies) I have grown accustomed to hearing and/or responding to at least 4 different conversations, at the same time (it's a gift) I am THAT good of a lis-sen-nuh.

    Aaaaanyway, said 18-year old went out and got herself a job that pays in REAL money and everything (more than I got paid managing the fitness center, even!) with the promise of keeping the same flexible hours, once she starts college in September (don't EVEN get me started!)

    Although I would NEVER admit it (out loud, anyway) now that 1 out of 4 of our kids are all grown up (mostly) I can't help but feel like, you know, "WAAAAAAAAAH!"

    "Why don't you come on in, Mrs. Thompson."

    [blink-blink-blink]

    "She's a little nervous."

    I was SO wrapped up in my thoughts (seriously, you guys, it's scary in here!) that it took me a few seconds to remember where I was and realize that, you know, a real person was speaking.

    "Aaaand, she's asking for you."

    You see, I took my oldest for her employment physical and she is STILL a little squeamish about needles (yes, she gets it from me) but, I stayed in the lobby because, well, you know, she's 18 and I was closer to the bathroom, anyway.

    "Why don't you go ahead and hold her other hand, Mrs. Thompson."

    As I stood there pretending to, you know, watch (mostly!) I quietly thought to myself, "She MUST be a Muh-thuh, too!"

    "You just go ahead and squeeze, sweetie."

    [eyes go wide]

    "DAYUM!"

    Note to Self:  you are right handed.  Next time, give her your OTHER hand.

    © 2003 – 2012 This Full House

  • Now Playing: The Brilliantly Brilliant Anti-Dog Whisperer

    MypuppyPhoto of Doofus-Dawg (not his real name) courtesy of HeatherrMarie (a.k.a. the middle girl.)

    Each of my kids has a special talent.  WAIT!!!  Where you going?!?  Please, COME BACK!!!

    I don't mean like in a "Look how brilliantly shine-y they are!" sort of way.  Although, considering I gave birth to each and every one of them and my being SUCH A BIG DORK, that in and of itself is an amazing thing, really. 

    Aaaaanyway, my point is — because, I really do have one and will try to get to it as quickly as dorkishly possible — we're technically raising our kids pretty much the same way (since kid one, really) and still they end up, growing up, with very different personalities.

    Which simply means my husband Garth (not his real name) and I STILL don't know what the heck we're doing half the time and I swear it comes down to a matter of paybacks from when we were kids.

    iDigress.

    Aaaaanyhow, so yeah, I get all like, "Holy Hannah Montana look-y what my kid can do!" whenever one of them does something I feel is brilliantly brilliant and, considering the last 4 and 1/16th paragraphs, can you really blame me?

    For example:  my youngest plays the clarinet AND is the only one in our family to even play a musical instrument. 

    Her name has been submitted for consideration into the Central Jersey Music Educators Elementary Honors Band.

    [takes deep breath]

    Aaaaand, well, forgive me when I say THAT is just all sorts of awesome.

    Bonus points: for figuring out that Doofus-Dawg (NHRN) does NOT like the clarinet.

    "Hey, you know how you hate it when he follows you around the house?"

    In the worst possible way, really, considering I am also the clumsiest mom on the planet.

    "I can always practice while you're making dinner!"

    [eyes go wide]

    See, what I mean?!?  BRILLIANT!!!

    © 2003 – 2012 This Full House

  • When I Was Young, We Could Only Buy Gas on Even-Numbered Days

    Aaaaand, other lunchtime conversations that make me sound old, and hungry:

     

    Not for nothing, but imagine if I had typed this ALL out (you're welcome!)

    © 2003 – 2012 This Full House

  • Power of Positive Thinking, Richardless

    Um, yeah, about my last post, sorry about that.  Admitting that I sometimes experience dark feelings of angst and perhaps rely on other people's happiness, way too much, is not very conducive to engaging in an easy-breezy, go ahead take your shoes off and get comfortable, sort of conversation, right? 

    Also, not my typical writing style.

    I blame it on having been home-bound for the last few weeks, harboring a fugitive kidney stone (his name is Richard, Dick for short) then being slammed with a wicked head cold, just when I was really beginning to feel pretty good — especially, from the neck up.

    Compounded by consuming large amounts of mindless TV (stay away from Bravo, it's highly addictive!) while the children and my husband took turns tucking me into the couch, or bringing me fresh boxes of tissues and herbal tea.

    Then, it hit me like a ton of idioms:  I was suffering from a man cold and…just ask any woman and they'll tell you…that shitz is near fatal, you guys!

    So, last night I took my Nyquil (like a big girl) and said to myself…SELF!…you need to get rid of that shitz REAL FAST!

    I am very happy to report that Richard (Dick for short) has indeed left the building, my head is clearing up and I am a MUCH better woman for it.

    [incoming text message]

    "I think you got me you filthy animal."

    Good thing, seeing as I gave my husband my man cold.

    So, please, for the love of Garth (not his real name) take care of yourselves, have a fantastic weekend (yes, ALL 3 of you) and if anyone needs me I'll be upstairs pretending to be asleep.

    Until then I remain forever yours,

    Richardless

    © 2003 – 2012 This Full House

     

  • As I See It, The Difference Between Envy and Jealousy is Most Likely a Nice Shade of Turquoise

    Winter Blues

    My 16yo dreams of being a famous photographer and it shows.

    I'm a pretty tolerant mom.  I don't have very many rules when it comes to my kids picking and choosing their friends.  In fact, if anything, my husband and I try to encourage our children to be as open-minded and non-judgmental as they would want others to be.

    Until, one of them has a falling out and, well, easier said than done, right?

    On the one hand, it's difficult to remain objective while watching your child's heart break, as she drenches your shoulder with snot, believing that the world is indeed coming to an end and not want to rip their so-called bestie a new one.

    Then again, speaking as an adult (mostly) it's a little easier to understand that we each carry our own pain which, more often than not, influences the decisions we make in life, good and/or bad.

    Until, someone I care about inadvertently breaks my heart and, well, have you seen The Grudge?

    A black, inky sort of BLECH! creeps over my insides and NO amount of bleach or disinfectant can keep me from being swallowed up by its toxicity.

    I could always blame it on the winter blues.  Or, being a woman (enough said)  and claim jealousy on their part.  Then again, I cannot honestly admit that I have never been envious of others, for reasons that would probably sound very silly or childish, to say out loud, anyway.

    "So, have you spoken to So-and-So since, well, you know?"

    Then, one of my kids turns around and says something profoundly adult-ish, like this:

    "No, I've come to the decision that no matter what I do it will NEVER be good enough."

    Aaaaaand, I WANT TO BE JUST LIKE HER when I grow up.

    Morale of the Story:   Never miss an opportunity to make others happy, even if you have to leave them alone to do it.

    Then again, happiness is highly subjective (I think) and thank goodness for small favors, right?

    © 2003 – 2012 This Full House

  • Valentine’s Day Movie Meme: 14 Memorable Chick Flick Moments

    Oh, HEY!  Guess what?  Tomorrow is Valentine's Day (SURPRISE!) so, rather than bore you with details of my ultrasound of the killer kidney stone from hell (you're welcome!) I thought it would be fun to participate in a meme in which I get to share my 14 favorite chick flick moments .

    Because, I am ALL about bringing the fun back into blogging.

    [sound of crickets, chirping]

    Oh, c'mon!  You like romantic comedies, right?  No?  That's okay.  You get to be the one in charge of trashing this list.  It'll be GREAT fun!  Ready?

    1.  What is your favorite romantic comedy?

    50 First Dates

    50 First Dates:  I love this movie.  Truth be told, a lot of my favorite romantic comedies star Drew Barrymore.  The woman is so gosh-darned likable in ALL of them (DAMMIT!)   

    FAVORITE BIT:  (Dr. Keats) Tom lost part of his brain in a hunting accident. His memory only lasts ten seconds.  (Ten Second Tom)  I was in an accident? That's terrible.  (Dr. Keats)  Don't worry, you're totally gonna get over it in about three seconds.   (Ten Second Tom)  Get over it? I mean, what happened? Did I get shot in the brain… Hi. I'm Tom.

    (more…)

  • Maybe She Knows Something I Don’t Know

    Tulips

    What do you call the flower that grows between your nose and your chin?  Tulips.  Get it?  Sorry, watched way too much Little Bear when my kids were little-er.

    A friend of mine called me yesterday and this is where my father would insist that…NO!…I don't have friends, I just know people AND after having said that would laugh the hardest (yeah, good one, dad!)

    Aaaaanyway, her youngest and my youngest are best friends, as of yesterday, as far as I know, anyway (they're 10 year-old girls, enough said.)

    "I've been very worried about you."

    Long story, short (you're welcome!) she saw our two girls walking together after school and later asked her daughter, "I haven't seen Mrs. Thompson this week, how is she?"

    "I can't tell you."

    Her mother, as any mother would, wanted to know, you know, why the heck not?

    "It's a secret."

    (more…)

  • Like the Little Kidney Stone That Could, I Continue to Serve As a Cautionary Tale for Moms (and Dads!)

      Hospital Room

    I told the E.R. nurse I was feeling cruddy for over a week now (give or take a bathroom stop, or twenty) but, I just shrugged it off as the kids sharing a stomach bug, or something, as she continued to draw my blood and nod her head very sympathetically.

    I stared at the ceiling (I’m not a very good bleeder) recapping my symptoms, the first of many more times to come:

    • Stomach pain, radiating to my lower back
    • Pressure in lower abdomen, similar to contractions
    • Feeling sick, nausea
    • Frequent bathroom stops

    All of which I promptly ignored, coming downstairs the night before to make myself a place on the couch so as not to disturb my husband, thinking this too shall pass.

    The next morning, I made an appointment for my youngest daughter’s well visit (true story, it’s on my Facebook timeline) and then made a mental decision to just continue to work right through the pain.

    Until, my oldest walked through our front door and found me, while trying to talk on the phone with my husband, doubled-over and gasping for air.

    (more…)

  • Wordless Wednesday: Sympathy Pains

    Sympathy Pains

    Our youngest is home sick on the couch with a stomach bug and looks to me Doofus-Dawg is having some serious sympathy pains.

    © 2003 – 2012 This Full House

    Freshly-Brewed Elsewhere:  Did you ever forget your kid's birthday?  I did (okay, almost!) Sharing memorable moments over at Favorite Finds and my friends at Hallmark.

  • HALP! There’s ANOTHER Teenager in the House!

    I remember when I first became the mother of a teenager — which, considering my oldest girl is 18 now (SOB!) truly is an amazing thing (that I even remember it, I mean!)

    Then my middle girl turned 13 and, well, any thoughts of my ever regaining full brain function flew right out the front door, along with the Christmas tree.

    Today, at precisely 2:05 a.m., my son joined the ranks of teenage-dom and not for nothing (word to Jenn) this time, it's different.

    Glen Growed Up

    What a difference a year makes, eh?

    I have to tell the boy to scootch down in order to scold him and, well, that's just not right, you know?

    I'm 5' 9".  Enough said.

    CURRENT COUNT:  Teens outnumber tweens 3 to 1 (HALP!) the latest having grown very adept at out-grossing his sisters with very realistic sounding fart noises during a sleepover with a few of his AXE-infused buddies, this past weekend.

    At least, I think they were pretending.  I was too busy trying not to puke and/or keep my head from exploding.  I still don't think the girls are quite over it.

    Me, either.

    Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go and scrape a few of my brain cells from off of the ceiling and THEN maybe I can figure out a way to convince my 10 year-old daughter that burping the alphabet, during dinner with her grandparents, is SO NOT funny.

    According to my son, blowing milk out of your nose during a conversation and pretending like it is NOT EVEN happening is way funnier.

    © 2003 – 2012 This Full House