This Full House Archive

Tag: this full house

Who Knew, Doofus Is a Designer Dawg?

I don't know what it is, exactly, but it happens to me every time the seasons change. I get all fired-up about redecorating, reorganizing, renovating and re-re-ing the h-e-double hockey sticks out of This Full House of mismatched scks and crunchy floors.

For years I blamed HGTV for fueling my DIY and design envy. Not to mention, my having a slight girl-crush on Candice Olson and Amy Matthews.

Then Pinterest came along and…well…as if I needed yet ANOTHER reason to feel inadequate or delusional in believing renovating a house…for the last 18 years…is perfectly normal…not to mention, using pretend words like re-re-ing.

On the other hand: my kids bring their friends over who are all, like, "Ohhhhh, your house is sooooooooo cozy!" and…YES!…I allow those kids sleepover…A LOT!

Aaaaanyway, I tend to focus on creating cozy little gathering-type areas (unavoidable, seeing as we live in a small house) like our faux fireplace.

It's actually our chimney. The previous owners were using a wood-burning stove, but the town made them remove it before selling the house and, well, getting it back to a real functioning fireplace…yeah…it's on my list.

This weekend, however, I replanted some perennials and wanted to reuse this beautiful pot (see picture above, also: re-re-ing) to warm up our entryway by using these awesome lit branches I found at Christmas Tree Shop.

"Is it supposed to go like that?"

Even my 11 year-old was all, like, really? Is THAT all you got?

Then I noticed Doofus-Dawg bought something in from the yard as well and I just vacuumed that carpet…HEY!…wait a minute…[cue light bulb]…AH-HAH!

I went outside, raided the kindling from our outdoor fireplace and even thought to take advantage of finally gathering up a couple of stray branches from around the yard, knocking yet ANOTHER item off of my list (don't be jealous) but, it still didn't look right.

Hope suggested we add some of the river rocks I had sitting on the driveway for the last few months (okay, more like a year: line perimeter of pool with rocks, to make it easier to cut the grass, it's on the list) to help hold the branches up straight and, well, seems I am not smarter than a 6th grader…either.

Aaaaaand, even Doofus-Dawg got into the act by helping me trim the branches back a bit…NO!… not that…ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZAP!!!!…heh, just kidding.

Now the entryway has "Welcome, sit down and take the load off!" written all over it, right?!? RIGHT?!? Riiiiiiiight.

[sound of crickets, chirping]

Yeah, whatever, Candice. Bite me, Amy.

© 2003 – 2013 This Full House

September 24, 2012
In Blog Years, I Should Be Friggin’ Rich!

9 years ago, I had a momfriend over for a playdate (remember those?!?) and, while we did share stories about our kids, fueled by tall glasses of spearmint iced tea and assorted kid-friendly snacks (probably fishy crackers and gummy bears, don't judge!) my friend and I waxed poetic about the days when we both dreamed of becoming famous writers.

Okay, mostly her, because she was (and still is) a screen writer (for real) and I just liked to pretend as if I were just as…you know…writerly.

"Have you thought about writing in a weblog?"

Smiling politely, I slowly refilled her glass and effectively acknowledged the fact that I had NO IDEA what a weblog really was.

"What the frig is a weblog?"

I'm from Jersey, enough said.

Aaaaaand, the rest my friends is…as they say…hysterical. No, really. Looking back at those first few posts, I swear, it's pretty obvious that I am in no way, shape or form as writer-ly as I pretended to be.

Still, living out my life online, sharing stories that I now treasure (okay, more like cling to like a forgotten child) and the extreme privilege of getting to know and eventually meeting some of my best friends in world…priceless.

Something that, up until this very day, a lot of folks still can't seem to wrap their heads around and that's totally okay.

It's hard to explain, I guess I'm just not that writer-ly.

So, for your reading pleasure and in celebration of my 9th blogiversary, my first blog post ever with no revisions, left as is when I first wrote it, one big friggin' paragraph of misspellings and all:

9/02/2003

Every pillow in my house has been relocated to the center of my
living room. Why? The oldest of my four children, who is 9, has a
playdate and it's raining outside. Enough said?!? My daughter's little
friend is a well mannered, intellegent little girl who happens to share
in my daughter's facination for pretend. One would think that at 9,
thanks to Brittany Spears, Bratz Dolls and belly shirts, MTV would hold
their interest rather than the giant maze totally constructed of pillows
growing ever taller behind me. I mean every pillow, down to my
youngest, who is 2, crib pillow. She was not very happy at first, but
with a lot of reassurances made by her older sister, she gave up her
pink frilly pillow for a promised entrance into the once completed maze.
Everyone is in the act. My second oldest girl, who is 7, is busily
adding her inventory of pillows. My son, who is 4 and the only boy in
this house besides the two cats at the moment, has been accepted into
the fold as well, light saber in hand. Play dates are very difficult to
control in my house. With good intentions, I invite the 9 year olds,
the 7 year olds and even a 4 year old friend (my son is in desperate
need of male bonding) for some summer or after school fun. I have a 9
room house, 2 of which are bathrooms, 2 of which all 4 of my children
share as bedrooms, 1 of which is my room dedicated to stock piles of
clean and dirty laundry. This basically leaves the main part of the
house (where, by the way my desk is smack dab in the middle of) open to
attempted organize play. We bought this house because of its,
"kid-friendly" potential. Today, I find myself retreating to my
computer and reflecting on the mountain of pillows, soon to be
dissassembled if anyone even thinks about getting any supper placed in
front of them. My four year old son, who is half naked with a feather
sticking out of his head, is screaming somewhere toward the back end of
the house ("He's an indian for goodness sake!" I only asked.) My 2 year
old is happily slamming the bedroom door upstairs ("She's thunder! We
need thunder 'cause it's raining outside!" Again, I only asked). My 7
year old is bent out of shape ("They never want to play what I want to
play!" No, we cannot have Kaitlyn over this afternoon.) The 9 year
olds are running back and forth between the upstairs and the downstairs
bedrooms screaming, "Can you hear me now?" ("The commercial is totally
hysterical, Mom!" I didn't ask this time.) I look at the clock and see
that the play date has an hour and a half to go and so do I, because
thunder just pooped!
– posted by Liz @ 9/02/2003 03:38:00 PM

See, I told you. Not very writerly-ish, right? To me? PRICELESS!!!

© 2003 – 2012 This Full House

September 7, 2012
#Blogust: Leave a Comment, Save a Child, Enough Said.
This post is my contribution to the United Nations Foundation's Shot@Life Blog Relay for #Bloglust: 31 bloggers, one each day in August, are writing about people from our communities who have inspired us.

TODAY, IT'S MY TURN TO HELP: EVERY SINGLE COMMENT LEFT ON THIS BLOG POST RAISES $20 TO HELP SAVE THE LIFE OF A CHILD IN NEED.

Here's my story: I started blogging back in 2003 (when blogging was still in diapers) to connect with other parents, share stories and feel a little less disconnected with life outside my front door, beyond all the dust bunnies and diapers.

It was a different time, social media was in its infancy and success was measured by how THRILLED someone felt whenever someone else (besides their mother) actually read and/or took the time to leave a comment on a blog post.

Not many people in my real life knew I blogged and those who did seemed troubled by my writing into all hours of the night: as a mother of four young children, I should be sleeping.

Still, I continued to share my stories, kept up with online friends on my blogroll, laughed along with them, offered a sympathetic ear, an empathetic virtual {{{hug}}} or participate in a meme (or twenty) and maybe even share a blog post that moved me in some way.

The internet continued to grow and, not unlike my kids, the blogosphere experienced its fair share of growing pains. It seemed as if a new controversy would arise with each passing year and I tried, really hard, to focus on my tagline instead: helping to make OTHER mothers feel a little better about themselves, since 2003.

Today? Social media has EXPLODED as new online communities continue to evolve on sites like Facebook, Twitter, Instagram and Pinterest (to name a few of my favorites) and while I also contribute to these forums (turns out, so do A LOT of my friends and neighbors IRL) they are but a small snapshot, a teaser if you will, of the stories I continue to share here on my blog.

Sadly, many of my longtime online friends are questioning their place on the internet and some folks are even considering the fact that perhaps it is time to step away from blogging: truth be told, me too.

As a mom of teens and tweens, I too can't help but wonder: is anybody really listening? Does anyone still read blogs anymore?

Until, I received this comment on a recent post (entitled "My Kids Think I'm a Stupid Mommyblogger, I Prefer the Term Family Chronicler" ironically enough) from one of my newer blogging friends, Tracie:Thank you, Tracie. You will NEVER know how much I needed to hear this, right now…OH, WAIT!…I just did, okay, NOW you know 🙂

It's folks like you (yes, YOU!) who continually inspire me to contribute to my online community in the best way I know how: by sharing my stories, hopefully, helping to make OTHER mothers (and dads) feel a little better about themselves and THANK YOU SO MUCH for the reminder, my friend.

Okay, now it's YOUR turn. Want to help save a child in need? EXCELLENT!!!

All you have to do is leave a comment on this post:
- Tell us a little about someone who supported or inspired you
- Share a story about a meaningful comment someone made to you
- Or maybe even let them know about it, right here, right now
Here's the REALLY AWESOME PART: every comment left on this post will be matched with a $20 donation (up to a maximum of $200,000) I mean, really, not for nothing, but what an awesome way to help bring home the fact that comments really do matter, right?!?

Just so you know, $20 is what it costs to give one child four life-saving vaccines to help protect them against measles, pneumonia, diarrhea and polio. That's 10,000 children and we can help them ALL with a simple comment.

Yesterday, the amazing Anissa Mayhew of Free Anissa shared her story and now I'm going to hand the virtual baton over to the awesome Jenny Eckton of Formerly Phread…GO JENNY, GO!!!!

You can learn more about Shot@Life by joining their email list, following them on twitter or liking them on Facebook.

OH, AND FEEL FREE TO TELL YOUR FRIENDS AND NEIGHBORS: A child dies every 20 seconds from a vaccine preventable disease. We can ALL help stop this. Comment today, comment tomorrow on Jenny's post, heck you can comment every day, if you'd like, we'll leave the porch light on for ya!

Why?

Because comments really do count, nice matters and even old-blog-timers like me still have a story or twenty to share, just sayin'.

© 2003 – 2012 This Full House
August 16, 2012
My Kids Think I’m a Stupid Momblogger, I Prefer the Term “Family Chronicler”!

Reading between the lines: HEY, YOU KLUTZ, BEWARE!

I love it when Garth (not his real name) is home for many reasons that I won't bother you with writing a long, drawn out list or anything (you're welcome!) okay, maybe just one.

Pulling up the rear (literally!)

This week, my kids LOVED being able to hang out with their dad (besides, at the supper table or a few minutes before bedtime) as I, once again, played the role of mom blogger.

I said "G'head and do something," and I got this!

Although, I prefer the term: family chronicler (yes, it's a word, spell-check says so) the kids and Garth (NHRN) are used to me falling a bit behind (as usual) but, this time, I felt a terrible desperation to capture AND savor the moment.

The view from the top of the red trail.

I have suffered from back problems for years (car accident in my 20's, birthing 4 babies in my 30's, dumbass 40's) and it's been getting progressively worse.

Holly at the top of the red trail, YAY!

An unexpected trip to the hospital for a kidney stone this past February also confirmed 2 herniated discs in my lower back (a.k.a. 2-for-1 diagnosis…YO!) and a subsequent visit with a neurologist who is still waiting for me to, you know, show up.

Hope at the top of the red trail, ALMOST!

What?!? The man wants to shove a HUGE needle in my back…ON PURPOSE!!!…more than once and then, eventually, introduce more pointy objects into my spine that will keep me flat on my back for weeks.

Heather owning the top of the trail, YOU GO GIRL!

Yeah, I know, I know, there are worse things. Unfortunately, I have friends and family who are suffering from all sorts of physical, mental and emotional pain…as we speak…DAMNIT! So, trust me when I tell you that I am NOT looking for any sympathy, JUST because I am afraid of sharp pointy things.

He's got a smart phone and he's not afraid to use it!

I am, however, scared to death at the thought of being expected to do nothing more than lay flat on my back for weeks. There, I said it and NOT just because Garth (not his real name) will testify to the fact that I am indeed a TERRIBLE patient.

He didn't want me to wait alone, at the top of the red trail.

Apparently, I am an equally AWFUL actress. There was no hiding the fact that the 2-hour car ride had taken its toll — not to mention, attending 2 blogging conferences, in 2 of my most favorite walking cities, in 1 month — as each of my kids took turns holding my hand, clearing a path or asking me if I needed to sit down.

When did they get to be THIS BIG?!?

Not for nothing, but it broke my heart. Kids today have enough to worry about — I have teenagers, trust me, I know — still, my mother is scheduled for surgery this coming Monday (a long overdue shoulder replacement) but, this time she's really, really scared and, well, I finally "get it".

Look, it's the masked blog-guh!

No, I'm not the smartest, bravest or most talented person in cyberspace (seriously, I'm okay with it) however, my kids seem to like hanging out with me inspite of the fact they believe I'm stupid for not going back to the neurologist sooner.

Aaaand that's just all sorts of cool, right?!? RIGHT?!?

[sound of crickets]

Riiiiiight. Stupid back, dumbass 40's.

© 2003 – 2012 This Full House

August 11, 2012
#BlogHer12: Blood, Sweat & Tears AND More Sweat

This was my 6th time attending BlogHer yet here I am again, sitting for nearly an hour in front of a blank screen, wondering "Where in the heck do I start?!?"

Yeah, I'm hanging out with Busy Mom…WHAT?!?

I could choose to begin by telling you some crazy-assed story of nearly popping a blood vessel just trying to get there, like my dear friend Busymom did, but my train ride into NYC from Jersey is less than an hour and was completely uneventful.

#PopCapMoms Afternoon Tea at the St. Regis Hotel

Or, after attending my first event shortly after arriving into NYC and drinking my weight in tea (that's A LOT of tea, btw) how I had to find a bathroom REAL BAD and was tackled by Jenn in the lobby of the hotel.

Me and Jenn scarin' the straights at MoMA

Seriously, nearly had the pee squeezed out of me, that Jenn's SUCH a good huggah! Not for nothing, but she seems to also enjoy making me pee my pants snort-laughing every blessed chance she gets, bless her heart.

9/11 Memorial: pool of tears.

There were tears, as well. This was my first visit to the World Trade Center, or downtown NYC for that matter, since the 9/11 attacks. The rain just added to the terrible feeling of loss and, personally, living just across the river, I couldn't help but reach out and want to wipe some of the wet away.

Visiting my bloggy-friend Patty.

Thankfully the happy outweighed the sad. Like visiting with Patty and her mom in Queens (gracias por las empanadas, Senora!) while she's recovering from surgery was most definitely a highlight for both me and Melisa.

With my two other roomies: Michelle and Flat Sue

Traveling the subway, in 1000 percent humidity, not so much (even the camera is all like, b*tch please!) however, traveling with Flat Sue?!? EPIC!!! Don't believe me? Check out Melisa's post Flat Sue visits #BlogHer12. Go ahead, I'll wait.

Table setting courtesy of @TheNextMartha

This year, however, stands out above all others: I was invited to sit @TheNextMartha's table during Martha Stewart's lunchtime keynote. Trust me when I tell you that my new friend Jen is ALL that and a bag of blue glitter.

Flat Sue says, "THPBBPBBPBPBPTH!!!"

I was totally honored to share the experience of MARTHA STEWART DISSING ALL THE HARD WORK THAT WENT INTO CELEBRATING PURE INSPIRATION AND JEN'S CREATIVITY ENTIRELY with her. No, really. It's okay. Glitter-envy is hard.

MMMF, I love you, you're number one!

Along with spending much needed quality time with some of my favorite people IRL (see also: Melisa's entire BlogHer12 photo stream) priceless. My stomach still hurts from all the snort-laughing and giggle-talking that went on and, well, I wouldn't trade in those moments for all the swag in the universe. Truth!

Live-blogging @readersdigest and @tasteofhome was an awesome experience.#BlogHer12

— Liz Thompson (@thisfullhouse) August 4, 2012

Then again, BlogHer is not ALL fun and games (mostly, not all) this year was a working trip for me and live-tweeting from one of BlogHer's newest sponsor's suite ALL DAY was an awesome experience that I will write about, on my other blog, at a later date.

At the MoMA: we could be related.

Or, as soon as my eyes uncross — you're welcome!!!

© 2003 – 2012 This Full House

August 7, 2012
BlogHer12: Caution, Professional Dork at Work!
Tracey, Me, Melisa and OH LOOK! It's freakin' Busy Mom at #BBSummit12!

I love traveling to blogging conferences and when people ask me, "What IS it that you do again?" I half-jokingly reply about my being a Professional Dork, by definition:
- A little odd
- Often times silly
- Extremely clumsy
- Breaks things (a lot!)
- Prone to laugh-snorting
- Jumping jack hating
- Careful to cross her legs when sneezing
- Average, every day, you just can't make this stuff up, dork of a mom
In other words: what you see is what you get and, well, it's our imperfections that make us unique…most especially, in the blogging world…yes?

That being said, I feel blessed to be able to work with some of the smartest, kindest, funniest folks I've ever had the pleasure of meeting (IRL) and touched upon this while speaking on the Blogger and Brand Relationships panel during #BBSummit12 last weekend.

I'm still working on a blog-worthy recap (soon-ish, rather than later-ish) but my friend and BlogHer12 roomie Michelle actually live-blogged the whole shuh-bang AND my sistuh-from-anuh-thuh-muh-thuh Melisa shared her experience as one of the awesome organizers, as well.

Today, I am honored to be able to share with you my partnering with Readers Digest and Taste of Home Magazine during BlogHer12.

I will be live-tweeting from the Reader's Digest BlogHer Suite #4203 as:

(more…)
July 26, 2012
So, My Kid Passes Out While Visiting Grandpa at the Hospital & Other Stories of You NEVER Know, You Know?
She's a sassy lemur.

Sooooo, I'm in my dear, sweet friend Melisa's fancy-schmancy car headed to #BBSummit12, my husband calls me on my cell phone and after 4 kids AND 20+ years of marriage — not to mention, having spent a good portion of my oldest daughter's college tuition on repair bills in just the last month or so — I sort of figured it wasn't good news.

"Are you sitting down?"

Also, Garth (not his real name) knows I'm a fainter.

"I'm here in the hospital with Hope."

My oldest daughter took Hope and picked up Grandma to visit Grandpa in the hospital (he was admitted the night before and recovering from pneumonia) and at first I was all, like, okaaaaaaay, aaaaaaand??????

"Wait, okay, so why are YOU there again?"

Long story, short (you're welcome!) here's a quick run down of the events prior to my getting on the plane:
- Wednesday: car breaks down on the way home from visiting my mom and dad (it was 99 degrees out at the time, just so you know).
- Thursday: drop car at shop, rent another car so I can get oldest daughter to and from work; yes she can drive, no not a rental; go figure.
- Friday: car won't be ready for a few days; so I go extend rental and pray for winning lottery numbers (yeah, right!)
- Saturday/Sunday: oldest kid is scheduled to work, on this particular weekend, go figure.
- Monday: pick-up car, drop off rental and get some edible food in the house in preparation for the zombie apocalypse (just kidding, sort of!)
- Tuesday: Take oldest daughter to work (I know, the car is fixed, but I'm so NOT a big fan of tempting fate) get my haircut (STAT!) pick oldest daughter up from work and then think about the possibility of packing early, because…you know…you NEVER know, right?
- Wednesday: happen to glance at calendar and realize that I have a couple of writing deadlines, HOLY CRAP, tomorrow and just knew I should have packed early.
- Thursday: son wakes up with a temperature of 103.5 (UGH, again?!?) pediatrician's office is closing early for vacation (we've been keeping her busy) so, we spend next 3 hours at urgent care (I am NOT EVEN kidding!) my butt still hurts.
- Still Thursday: get a call while at urgent care with my son that FIL was being admitted to hospital and consider packing early as being highly overrated.
Now maybe you know why I was seriously second-guessing getting on a plane, the next day, or ever, in the first place, right?

Still. My son was responding to the antibiotics and my FIL was recovering nicely (thank goodness!) so, I got packing and was super-relieved when my plane finally landed…you know…on the ground…the right way…with me STILL on it…and everything.

"Hope took one look at Grandpa and passed out."

Sooooo, my poor husband, Garth (not his real name) spent the next 7 hours with Hope, texting me updates and generally keeping me from going CRAZY with worry or convincing me NOT to take part in any activities involving the use of sharp objects and/or heavy machinery.

"Remember when you passed out that one time taking Mama to the Hospital?"

True story. I rushed my mother to the hospital during a gallbladder attack, passed out in the bathroom, tore my head open and was admitted…at the same time she was…her for an emergency gallbladder surgery and me for a concussion.

"Good thing we were BOTH in the hospital when it happened, right Mommy?!?"

Yep…she's my kid, a'ight…and I'm seriously considering taping EVERYONE ELSE up in bubble wrap, while I'm at BlogHer, next month!

Then maybe investing in a couple of sage sticks, cleansing the house with bleach (straight-up!) and perhaps even hiring an exorcist or something. You know any?

© 2003 – 2012 This Full House
July 24, 2012
Nearly Wordless Wednesday: Look Mom, I Cut My Own Hair!!!

On my the list of scariest words a parent will ever hear along with: what's ALL this hair doing in the bathroom?!?

Unless, the kid actually does a gosh-darned pretty good job of it.

She claims to have gotten tired of dealing with ALL that mermaid hair, watched about a dozen YouTube tutorials on cutting naturally curly hair and, well, I envy her confidence (and her curls) even though I'll be vacuuming hair for about a month, or twenty.

Way to go, Holls!

© 2003 – 2012 This Full House

July 18, 2012
Call Me Craaaaaaaazy, Talk With Yous Laaaaaaaay-tuh, Maybe

Source: etsy.com via Liz on Pinterest

My parents had a telephone similar to this one — we were living in a 4 room apartment upstairs in my grandmother's house at the time — it hung on our kitchen wall and had a ridiculously long extension cord that would require untangling, by dangling the hand set and allowing it to spin, at least a couple times a day.

Which is really funny, because going into another room for a little privacy doesn't really matter much if you come from a family of LOUD TALKERS.

Somewhat related: I was working at the kitchen table yesterday (because it's summer break and we only have one computer, enough said) when my cell phone rang.

Me: Oh, it's Jenn!

Because, I have a terrible habit of thinking OUT LOUD as well.

13yo Son: So, I guess you'll be talking REAL LOUD then?!?

True story. Just ask Jenn. She's from Texas. I'm from Jersey. We sometimes have trouble understanding each other and, well, every little bit helps.

[sound of crickets, chirping]

Okay so what was I saying, oh yeah: cell phones allow us the freedom of continuing our conversations while running errands, dropping/picking up kids at school, waiting on ridiculously long check-out lines, even while taking much needed bathroom breaks (stupid ridiculously long check-out lines, dumbass bladder) and, well, I'd like to dangle some of THOSE people at least a couple times a day, too.

At the risk of shaking my cane and causing a massive load shift in body mass (you're welcome!) as my friend Jenn would say: if you choose to have a full-blown conversation out in public, or maybe even in the bathroom stall next to me, I'mma gonna contribute, bless your heart.

"So, she said….blah, blah, blah….and I said….yada, yada, yada….and she called me a so-and-so….you believe that or what?"

[clears throat]

"That's just craaaaaaaaazy!"

[dead silence]

"Here's my number….la, la, la….so, call me maybe."

[one beat, two beats]

"There's this crazy b*tch, ovuh-heh, I'll have-tuh call yuhs back!"

A little passive aggressive? Maybe. However, I live in Jersey and well they cut people here for less.

MOST ESPECIALLY in bathroom stalls…YO!

© 2003 – 2012 This Full House

July 13, 2012
Before Social Media, Some of Us Would Use Our Pregnancies, As Timelines
Never being one to tempt fate…[pausing to knock on wood]…I am absolutely sure of very few things in life, like:
- We are all out of milk, eggs, cereal or bread (probably, all four).
- If there is a mosquito in the house, I will find it.
- I will have to either thank or apologize to my husband, at least once, every day.
- Not before the cat uses my stomach as a springboard and pounces on my husband's head sometime around 4 a.m.
- Someone will have forgotten to switch the laundry (most probably, me).
- I will snort at least once, at any given time, in a conversation.
Ohhhhhh…and that the water main in front of our house will break AND at the most inopportune time too!

Then something will happen to exacerbate the situation: like one of the three police officers, unlucky enough to pull duty on a Sunday afternoon at the beginning of a holiday week, drives through the river that is running through our street, which inadvertently buckles the pavement and creates a mini-geyser.

Finally, we will begin to see the humor (most probably, on Facebook):

Garth (NHRN) making lemonade (sort of ) by taking advantage of situation while adhering to state of water emergency.

I will blog, or share it on Instagram and misspell at least one word (stupid man-fingers!):

What 1:20 a.m. looks like when they ate ripping your front walk a new one. http://instagr.am/p/MkQUT0G4mg/

But, the one thing I am REAL positive about (mostly) is that there will be plenty of family and friends who are more than willing to help me remember it as…you know…not ALL that bad…really.

Not when there are folks out there STILL without power (did you hear, Momo's gone all Little House on the Prairie?) because, as one Twitter friend was kind enough to remind me: water is less important than power.

Having lost BOTH and turning Amish for 5 days last summer, I totally agree.

Aaaaaand then, if I'm REAL lucky, I will find at least one online friend (maybe even two) who is STILL awake and have the best gosh-darned virtual slumberless party ever.

Long live the Three Klutzketeers!!!

[sound of crickets, chirping]

If anybody needs me, I'll be right here…propped up against the kitchen table, waiting for the service people to show up to fix my dishwasher AND washer (both of which are FUBAR!) so, I can…you know…put ALL this water to good use…YO!

© 2003 – 2012 This Full House
July 2, 2012