When teen girls mess with a 12-year-old boy's cool: funny (i.e. future blackmail) family photos happen!
Happy (Nearly) Wordless Wednesday, everyone!
© 2003 – 2011 This FULL House
Tag: this full house
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Wordless Wednesday: Stolen Kisses
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Aaaaand Now a One Act Play
Performed by Two TurtlesOne of the many perks of raising older kids, besides the fact my husband and I have seen each of ours reach double digits and are STILL amazed at our even being able to, you know, count that high.
Okay, mostly me.
Aaaaanyway, we've tried to raise them to be independent, or at the very least, able to pretty much take care of themselves (get dressed, feed themselves, remember to brush their teeth, take their showers before bed and use soap, the last three being mostly for my son) if need be, and work as a team, if necessary.
This week, the need be necessary.
I have been in and out of the house, helping out a dear friend of mine, all week, in fact, I'm not home, right now.
I was, for a few minutes, long enough to pack an overnight bag, kiss Garth (NHRN) when he got home from work (on the lips, REAL HARD!) and, well, then I left.
On the one hand, it's nice to be able to focus my attention (used in the singular, on purpose) wherever it is needed the most, at any given moment.
On the other hand, ummmm, what was I saying, again?
Aaaaanyway, I bought my laptop along, thinking this would be the perfect time to catch up on reading some of your blogs and, in turn, allow you guys to, you know, help keep me amused (thankyouverymuch!)
So, once my friend settled in for the night, I fired it up.
Grrrr… even though we recently invested in a new desktop, my kids STILL insist on accidentally borrowing my laptop on purpose.
Seriously, sometimes being away from home, alone, is good.
Until, I read the note pinned to a new document: Hope's Madlib, in case you get bored, I hope you like it.
PATIENT: Thank you so very much for seeing me, Doctor Thompson, on such pretty notice.
DENTIST: What is your problem, young Bruno?
PATIENT: I have a pain in my upper big bow, which is giving me a severe belly ache.
DENTIST: Let me take a look. Open your heart wide. Good. Now I'm going to tap your Gabi with my dog.
PATIENT: Shouldn’t you give a cat killer?
DENTIST: Its not necessary yet. Yeah! I think I see Walmart in your upper neck.
PATIENT: Are you going to pull my earring out?
DENTIST: No I'm going to sneeze your tooth and put in a temporary globe.
Patient: When do I come back for the ugly filling?
DENTIST: A day after I cash in your tennis ball.
On the one hand, it's a simple little Madlib and, well, big deal, right?
On the other hand, the fact that it was supposedly performed by two turtles, yeah, doesn't change things much, unless, you know, they're naked (Gawd, I love that kid!)
Thankmeverymuch.
© 2003 – 2011 This Full House
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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
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Serving as an Unspoken Example to My Children Since 2003
I wrote my very first blog post 8 years ago (Happy Belated Blogivesary to me, heh) on September 2, 2003 (at 3:38 p.m.) and poop may or may not have been involved.
My youngest was still in diapers and, well, it's understandable, really. Raising 4 kids, under the age of 10, life revolved around my being the center of their world — handling poop was a large part of it — which, thanks to the internet, had just gotten a whole lot smaller.
I now had the ability to communicate, with other people, over the age of 10, unwashed and in my pajamas (as far as anyone knew!)
To be given the opportunity to put my thoughts (scattered and nonsensical, as they may have been) into actual words (thanks to spell check) blogging felt empowering AND downright intoxicating, really.
Minus, the poop, of course. Especially, for a self-professed, semi-professional, poop-handlers (like me) you know?
We've shared a lot of stories in 8 years and, now that my kids are older (me, too) perhaps even managed to work in a title, involving just about every major bodily fluid and/or function known to the universe.
Because, contrary to what most people think (about moms, who happen to write a blog, or twenty, too) it's not ALWAYS about the poop.
"Grandma's on the phone and she sounds upset."
My in-laws were in Massachusetts, on their way back home to Jersey, they got hit by another car and my husband could hear the emergency crew trying to get her side of the car open, they got there THAT fast (thank you Holyoke EMT!)
While my husband showered and prepared to break the record for driving, round trip, thru MA, CT, NY and NJ traffic (enough said) in 9 hours (it CAN be done) my kids took to task.
My middle girl Googled information for the local authorities, hospital and hotels, while the youngest wrote the information on sticky notes.
Aaaand, for all the worries about kids today and their fascination with the internet (not to mention, the moms who blog about them) I have to say, it was nice to see mine use their cyberpowers for good in the time it took me to find my dumbass phone.
Only, because my oldest used her cell phone to call it.
Then, she texted this picture to my husband's cell phone and, I am very,VERY happy to tell you, they are ALL back home and doing fine.
Morale of the Story: Potty-training is hard, raising tweens and teens is like [insert bodily fluid and/or function, of choice, here!] in the wind.
Beeeeeecause, you NEVER know what's gonna get thrown back at you AND it's not always about the poop, anyway.
Don't believe me? Rather than telling you about the rest of our horrifically emotional weekend (you're welcome!) I did a quick search: PUKE WINS!
Aaaand thank YOU for allowing ME the chance to, you know, share.
© 2003 – 2011 This Full House
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Nearly WordlessWednesday:
Same, Only Different
Now this, THIS IS EXACTLY what my dining room looks like, here at home.
Minus the nice walls, finished ceilings, those wickedly awesome French doors and fancy furniture, that rug and gorgeous light fixture, WOW, oh and, at second glance, uhhhhh, our floor may or may not look a little less, you know, finished.
Ummmm, did I mention, we have the same color pallet, tho?!?
Stupid houzz!
© 2003 – 2011 This Full House
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Are You Smarter Than My
5th Grader’s Smart Phone?NO!!! Because, my 5th grader doesn't have a cell phone. She will (eventually) then text me, how much she HATES the bus, like her siblings before her, most likely.
All arguments for or against cell phone use in school and kids today with their entitlement issues, aside (really, 4 kids, living under 1 leaky roof, I get it) her latest argument that, "My friends are texting each other, except me!" is more than just a little disconcerting.
"Which friends?"
I mean, we ARE talking 10 year-old girls, who stop talking to each other, every other day, just so you know.
"ALL my friends!"
Still, I remember when it seemed ALL my friends wore Converse sneakers and, being raised hearing stories of my father entering this country, with borrowed shoes (2 sizes too small) how torn I felt about my Shoprite specials.
Unconvinced (see last paragraph) I remind her that it couldn't possibly be ALL her friends.
"I mean So-and-So calls you on our house phone, every day."
Okay, I mean, at least every OTHER day.
"Beeeeeee-cawse, I don't have a cell phone, remember?!?"
[blink, blink, blink]
GAH! Whatever! It's sort of hard to argue with a child's sense of logic, without sounding a little like a 12-year-old, my ownself, yes?
"Well, that's not ALL your friends now, is it?"
See what I mean?
"YES IT IS!"
Times like this, squashing my inner-12-year old is really, really hard, just so you know.
"What about So-and-So?"
[one beat, two beats]
"Beeeeeee-cawse, she has me on conference call!"
[eyes go wide]
"I can't even do that with my phone, DAGNABIT!"
There, I said it (keep your Blackberry, Droid and iPhone apps to yourselves, please) I have a dumb phone, don't judge.
"Well, you COULD get a smart phone and we CAN always learn to share!"
Damn, that kid is smart (stupid phone!)
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Rock, Bumper, Echo Says, “SHOOT!”
We attended a family get-together in memory of Garth's (NHRN) uncle who, sadly and very suddenly, passed away last month.The kids were a little nervous (me, too!) it's been almost a year since they attended my aunt's funeral and they're still not quite over her passing (me, either.)
I promised it was not going to be like that.
This was, however, an opportunity to meet up with extended family members of the Thompson Clan, from Arizona and Boston, who we haven't visited with in a very long time.
Which also gave us the chance to introduce our kids to another branch of their family.
Okay, so we were ALL a little more than nervous.
Still, it was held here in Jersey (yes, on purpose!) at Garth's (NHRN) cousin's home, which my SIL promised would be, an experience to behold.
She was NOT even kidding. The wine cellar, alone, filled from floor to ceiling with bottles of pinots, cabs, shiraz and champagnes (they weren't even dusty DANGIT!) you could tell, was created to be a very livable space, with it's own thermostat and humidifier, well, I was ready to move in.
We were ALL blown away and each complimented my cousin-in-law, more than once, on her beautiful home, having done ALL the decorating, herself.Okay, so we were all, like, "GAWD, this is gor-juss!" and "How many bathrooms DO you have, again?" every danged chance we got, hoping not to have sounded tooooo, you know, envious.
We had a really great time, considering the circumstances and, after watching a rather emotional tribute to my uncle-in-law, we were all a little sad to go.
Until, my cousin-in-law insisted that we come back, for Christmas and, well, one or more of us may or may not have volunteered to help clean up and perhaps stay, you know, until then, or maybe even for forever.
I mean, they DO have the room (DAGNABIT!) the area is absolutely gorgeous (yes, here in Jersey!) and they seemed to like us, just fine, until.
CRASH! I backed up into this rock, left behind when they cleared the lands to make room for their 1/4 mile driveway.
"SHOOT!"
And I may or may not have swapped the two "o's" for an "i" because, you know, I'm from Jersey.
"Do you think anyone heard that?"
Judging by all the cameras on the front porch, visible from way over here, even, I'd say, YES!
"Funny, I thought the rock would be bigger!"
Stupid echo!
© 2003 – 2011 This Full House
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Remembering Union Street
7 years ago (next month) I sold my childhood home (approx. 30 minutes outside of NYC) and moved my parents "down the shore" to live in "the village" or what my kids warmly refer to as "Camp Mama and Papa."
So, a week before the move, we took our kids up for one last visit and my husband started to take a couple of random pictures.
At first, I couldn't quite understand why. Although, yes, the gardens were magnificent and often times my parents would receive compliments from passersby.
My kids grew up here visiting with their grandparents nearly every Sunday and yet I couldn't help but look forward to watching each of them (and us) make many more memorable moments in Mama and Papa's shiney new home.
The last I heard, the house on Union Street was being rented (AGAIN!) and, living 90 minutes away, my parents sometimes STILL visit, insisting that, you know, they just happened to be in the neighborhood.A few weeks ago, I drove up north to run a few errands (okay, only one, the Hungarian butcher is still there, enough said) and did EXACTLY what I told my parents NOT to do.
I drove up Union Street, right passed the house and, I swear, I could hear my heart break a little.
The foot bridge, the lamp post, the rose-covered arbor, the greenhouse that my father built using leftover materials recycled from various landscaping job sites, it was ALL gone.
I did NOT recognize it, anymore.
Today, I'm heading out to check on my parents (my dad tore a ligament in his "good arm," yesterday) but, not before I make a quick stop for them at the Hungarian butcher…ONLY!
So, yeah, thank you, Garth (NHRN) this is EXACTLY how I will always remember Union Street.
© 2003 – 2011 This Full House
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Easy, Breezy, Pinot Gris-y
In between earthquakes and hurricane warnings (what a week we're having, Jersey, eh?) my husband, Garth (NHRN) and I celebrated our 21st wedding anniversary and had an awesome dinner with my in-laws, last night!
I tried to keep the conversation light (thanks to 2 Mojitos and an awesome glass of Pinot Gris) alas, my husband's boyscout powers, along with the category 2 hurricane and extreme flood warnings, had been activated early in the day.
"You guys have everything you need?"
My in-laws are both in their 80's (but, you STILL look good Mom!) and, well, let's just say that they didn't seem very worried about the weather.
"Ah-yup."
Still, I told them that the kids and I were going to go down to check on my folks (they live about 15 miles inland from Seaside Heights) then, I would stop by their house (my in-laws live about 10 minutes away from us) to help secure stuff and drop off a case of bottled water.
"I don't expect there'd be a problem."
My father-in-law is from New England, enough said.
"But, you want to be able to have coffee!"
I mean, seriously, you really have to wonder about some people's priorities.
"Category 2 hurricane and you're worried about coffee?"
I'm sure the table behind us MUST have heard the muscles in my neck snap, as I whipped my head in my husband's direction (I mean, my neck STILL hurts a little) seriously, he's lived with me for 21 years.
"Maybe coffee would help make them worry about it, you know, less."
Okay, at this point, I realize that it sounded as if I was being beaten by the stoopid stick.
It's not every day you experience an earthquake AND a hurricane in the same week.
I stood my ground.
"This way, you have water, all you have to do is just fire up your Keurig and you're good to go."
Wait for it.
"That's actually a great idea.
Wait. For. It.
"Iffffffff, they had electricity!"
AHEM.
"How about those Giants?"
[blink, blink]
"They're actually going to go ahead and play the Jets."
[sound of crickets]
"You know, on Saturday?!?"
[heavy sigh]
"Sure, I'll have another glass of wine, thanks!"
All I'm saying is, thank goodness, I married a boyscout….stupid Irene!
© 2003 – 2011 This Full House
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Fanny Body Asks, I’m NOT Home!
Knock-knock. Who's there? Fanny. Fanny who? (see blog post title) SNORT!
The kids helped me out with a little blogging project and, since it's been raining cats and dogs, since, like, forever, they built this awesome tent in the middle of our livingroom.
Not that it's earth-shattering news, or an epiphany in parenting, that will perhaps, one day, save the world, by any means, or anything.
It's just that, you know, my kids are older AND by older I mean: a) oldest is graduating high school this year and b) youngest is moving up to middle school next year (SOB!)
The fact that they still like doing this sort of stuff…with me…well, sort of just blows me away, a little.
You see, I am not the best mom, or expert at anything other than being a dork (I get that!) but, raising teens is REAL hard.
Aaaaand, some would be hardpressed to argue that first part, as well (DAMNIT!) but, these are my kids and, some day, REAL soon, maybe they won't be home long enough, or even want to admit that, you know, we actually had fun…together.
Except, this one day, when we built a tent, out of blankets, in the middle of our living room, microwaved us some S'mores and watched Toy Story 3.
Aaaaand, it was AWESOME!
"Holy crap on a stick, look at the size of those mushrooms!"
Told you it's been raining, A LOT!!!
"Heeeeey, you know what, they sorta look [snicker] you know [cough, cough] kinda, I dunno, funny-looking, right?!?"
After some scolding and a quick lecture on the appropriateness of this particular conversation, my kids finally allowed me back into the house and sent me and my inner-12-year-old straight to my room, for some quiet time.
Aaaaand, it was AWESOME!
© 2003 – 2011 This Full House
Freshly-brewed elsewhere: Allstate Good Hands Roadside Assistance Program Recap where I get to share a $50 Amazon gift card. Also, had fun filming this video with the Minute Clinic folks at BlogHer.