This Full House

Holidazed by the Chalkboard Project: I blame Pinterest AND @TheNextMartha

In this house (full as it is)  DIY projects are gauged by three very important factors:

1.  My husband's analytical mind:  I'd mention something about this or that getting done and then he would agree with me, using graphs and/or spread sheets and then submitting a final paper in nothing less than 1,000 words.

2.  My patience level:  I have none.  That is to say, with stuff that doesn't work right, after the 17th time and my aversion to reading directions doesn't help any...either.

3.  Calculating the time it takes to get the job done:  before my husband gets home.

Needless to say, we're a little behind on our DIY projects (not for the lack of wanting, either)  and, trust me when I tell you, ability has absolutely NOTHING to do with our ever-growing to do list...either.

Last year...I re-did our bathroom...during Thanksgiving week.

Okay, I just thought of a 4th import DIY factor:  if it is a holiday week, or not.

This week, I walked by the garage door and noticed the wallpaper was ripped (DAMMIT!) and who wallpapers a garage door, anyways?!?

[raises hand]

Life Balance, Take 17

Yesterday, we attended an art show, held at a local bank, supporting art in schools, featuring two of Holly's pieces. 

You can't really tell from my cell phone, however the majority of this pen and ink drawing is stippled, with tiny little dots. 

I remember, because I can still hear the, "...dot, dot, dot, dot, dot, dot, dot, dot, dot, dot..." of her tapping the pen well into the night.

The same with this one,"...dot, dot, dot, dot, dot, dot, dot, dot, dot, dot..." which explains the permanent dent in the poor girl's right index finger.

This piece, however, is still her favorite, she says, because it's the first, of many she's created (dot, dot, dot, dot, dot, dot, dot, dot, dot, dot) taking inspiration from her own life, rather than that of another artist.

It's her vision...of herself...and, well, my inner-17-year-old totally relates to the juggling act going on in her head.

I mean, I am her mother.

As her mother?

To be honest, it made me a little sad to think, man, that still seems like A LOT of pressure, doesn't it?

Even more sadly, I started to over-analyze stuff, in my own head, like:

• Why is she putting bills above love?
• She's only 17.
• Perhaps she meant budget?
• Great, now she won't want kids.
• Can I blame her?
• No, I'm her mother.
• Should a 17 year old be thinking of this sort of stuff?
• I never did.
• Did I?
• Apparently not, see first bullet.
• Why aren't there any more foot holds?

I did ask her about the bills thing, considering that she may (or, may not) have read my last post.

That's when....

Warning: you're about to enter a proud mom-type blogging moment and, if this sort of stuff makes you itch, I don't blame you.  However, considering that I am her mother, stuff like this just seems all the more amazing, you know, so indulge me this one time, okay?

....she quickly pointed out that the closest thing to her heart is family.

"Read from the bottom up, not the top."

TAKEAWAY:  Seems we're ALL well passed refrigerator art and graduating into deeper, smarter waters, now.

[second glance]

GAH...quick, someone throw me a dingy, PLEASE!

© 2003 - 2011 This Full House

WWMSD?

If you were to ask me to sum up this entire winter, using just one color, I would paint you a less than prettiful picture and describe the feeling as being similar to the consistency of pea soup.

 

Seems like we've had a sick kid in the house, every weekend, since Christmas break and maybe because, you know...we have...had a sick kid...in the house...since Christmas break.

This week, it was my youngest's turn (she's 9) which, considering she is the youngest (i.e. been there, done that, easily entertained) a case of strep throat doesn't sound like such a big deal, really.

Unless, she is the kid who NEVER gets sick.

Aaaand, then, she'll spike fevers (always at night) and nearly drown in her own mucus (ditto) thick enough to plaster the walls, twice, to the extent where I am actually afraid of leaving her alone, or even bother with getting dressed.

"I'm bored!"

"Why don't you paint something?"

"But, I can't find a paint brush."

Then, finally, a glimpse of normality and, well, although our lives are not always perfect (okay, more like never) and I won't be voted the bestest, most craftiest mom, anytime soon (if, ever) I can at least try and focus on the beauty of simple, little things, again, or today, anyways.

Like, being thankful that I did NOT throw away that old glass vase...afterall.

Or, this one.  Even if we still can't find a dagnab paint brush, to save my gosh-darned life...dagnabit!

Gee, I wonder what Martha Stewart would do?

© 2003 - 2011 This Full House

#Reverb10: Make

Reverb 10 is an online initiative created by Gwen Bell to reflect on 2010, consider, you know, what's next and, through daily writing prompts, help folks (like me) share their story. 

Since I am ALL about sharing (shuddup Garth, not your real name!) and my friend Shannon is doing it (although, the non-conformist in me can't promise to, you know, write daily) I've decided to give it a whirl.

Today's prompt:  Make -- what was the last thing you made? What materials did you use? Is there something you want to make, but you need to clear some time for it?

My youngest daughter (she's 9) and I recycled some old stuff to make this cute reindeer ornament for a Clever Girls Collective craft project last month!

We did A LOT of crafts when my kids were younger -- give a kid a piece of paper, a crayon and a couple of glue sticks, well, you ARE the Queen (or King) of Distraction -- especially, around the holidays.

As for things I want to make?

Well, we don't seem to have time to craft together as we used to (could be a bad, or good thing, depending on how you look at it) however, you are NEVER too old for paper chains and snowflakes, right?

Then, there are those pesky little home repair projects.

[blows bangs out of eyes]

Got a few minutes?  There's a list.  Somewhere.  I just had it.  I swear.  

In all seriousness, Garth (not his real name) and I are hoping to make time to actually finish several projects we've started...um...a few years ago, or twenty, like:

• The kitchen:  there's the ceiling (i.e. actually put one up, or just paint the damned drywall, already) and the cabinets (oh, they're up, just old) these really DO need our immediate attention!
• The bathroom:  whose idea was it to wallpaper it, anyway?  Oh wait, that would be me (shuddup Ty Pennington!)
• Our bedroom:  see kitchen notes (minus cabinets.)
• Girls' bedroom:  They're 17, 15 and almost 10, so the Barney colors have G2G (see bathroom notes!)
• Dining room:  In a moment of, "Do'oh, I just can't take it anymore," my husband came home from work, one day, and found the fugly brown rug rolled up at the curb, years ago.  I was surprised to find a beautiful hardwood floor underneath that is now SCREAMING for a new coat of varnish (seriously, I hear it whimpering in my sleep!)
• The livingroom:  is in between the dining room and kitchen and, well, it would also be EXTREMELY jealous if we didn't, you know, pay its walls at least some attention, too.
• The boy's room:  still needs a door, DAMMIT!

Hence, the reindeer gift tag addressed to, "Daddy!"

[sound of crickets]

No, it's NOT a door!  Besides, Garth (not his real name) and I adopted the "no gifting each other" rule this year (stupid economy!) it is, however, a BIG bunch of good intentions all wrapped up with a pretty little bow and everything!

Shhhhh, don't tell him...okay?

My OTHER Reverb 10 stories.

© 2003 - 2010 This Full House Blog / TFH Gone Shopping

Sew, What's Love Frickin' Got to Do With It, Anyway?

My oldest daughter had this really great idea.  You see, she needed to come up with a sewing project for a benefit fashion show at the high school, "Barbie Through the Ages."

What -- I didn't pick the name -- but, it was going to count as a HUGE part of her final grade, so, you know, what was I supposed to do?

"What do you have to make?"

Because, I do NOT sew, or help "make" anything, if it means having to use something other than hot glue gun, let alone...mechanical...with running parts and a very sharp object, that puts holes in things, on purpose.

"I have to make a wedding dress."

Holy crap, that should be easy, right?

"Actually for the wedding party."

Oh, okay, still I'm guessing a "NO!" on the hot glue gun.

"How about if I sew a dress for Barbie's sister, Kelly?"

Um, okay.

"Yeah, and maybe even get my baby sister to model it, too, right?"

Riiiiight.

Like, most everything that comes (and goes) around in this house, it sounded good, at first...on paper...but, if I had a dollar for each time one of my kids came home with a school project, that I did NOT have to buy, sell, or help them with, the night before, while in a sugar-induced shock, then I'd be poor AND a diabetic, by now.

Oh, wait...

It's not clothes that make the man, it's totally about the tie Charlie Brown!

My husband Garth (not his real name) works at a bank.  I can't say which one.  Actually, I could.  If I wanted to.  But, I won't.

Because, I'm not very happy with them at the moment and may say something that I will regret, later.

But, I don't work for them; he does.

Right now, he...no, wait...we need him to have this job, more than the satisfaction it would give me to tell them just what exactly I thought of their new and improved way of making sure that Garth (not his real name) spends more time on the road, away from us, selling stuff for them.

Still.

He comes home to me and there's very little else I can do.  But, be here.  Waiting.  Listening.  Hoping.  Looking for ways in which I...no, wait...we can make it a little, you know, better.

Unfortunately, they don't leave me much to work with.

"How was your day?"

He'll loosen his tie, shrug his shoulders, ask about mine, instead and I can't help but hesitate, before answering, wondering if I should really tell him, while I try NOT to notice just how gray his hair has gone.

"I see you're wearing one of my favorite ties."

For the last...um...lots of years, every birthday and gift-giving holiday, the kids and I give Garth (not his real name) a new "fun" necktie.

"I felt a little Charlie Brownish, today"

Sympathetic to the fact that Garth (not his real name) HAS to get dressed and all the negative connotations that go along with having to spend the better part of everyday in "a suit."

"Wait until you see what the kids and I are cooking up for Christmas!"

Garth (not his real name) have already agreed that gifts are just for kids - stupid unattainable and totally unreasonable budget quotas, and all - I was trying to come up with something that would help remind him of what...no, wait...who he's really, you know, working for.

"Swell."

Okay, I guess he's thinking of the one we got him last year, with The Grinch, that lights up and plays, "Have A Holly, Jolly Christmas."

"Just wait, you'll love it."

Do you want to know what it is?

Since, he's not allowed to hang pictures on his wall, or keep pictures of us family on his desk, either - nor, does he have the time to read my blog - I thought it would be safe to show you this cool tie I ordered and designed over at Zazzle.com with the words "Got Revenue?"

I think it's fun AND totally business appropriate, especially for today's quintessential family guy - who just needs to be reminded, every now and again - GET A LIFE, CHARLIE BROWN!

What, ya' think it's a bit too LOUD?

Hump Day Diddy Dumbs: You say goulash - but, I say it's gulyas - let's just call it soup!

I have this friend - YES, she knows I'm a Dork and still, you know, let's me hang with her -  who takes it upon herself to remind my children, to remind me, not to forget...you know...things like, an upcoming class party, or when they should NOT come to school...like, tomorrow...and Friday...Monday, too...I think...because, there isn't any...school, I mean...and they'd be the only ones there and other stuff.

"Don't forget about Saturday!"

I'm sure she didn't notice the extremely blank look on my face, since she wasn't talking to me, as she continued keeping my 8-year-old son up-to-date about his busy weekend.

"Okay, I think mommy has it on the calendar...thanks, M.J.!"

Oh, it doesn't bother me in the least - although, a couple of years ago her concern about my organizational skills, or lack thereof, would have probably kept me up at night and had me avoiding her for days after - she knows, that I know, after all these years of raising kids and killer dust bunnies, there's just not much space left upstairs.

Brain cells are at a premium, people!

So, where am I going with this...um...well, I can't remember...give me a moment...oh, yeah...let's talk goulash!

Still here?

Well, then perhaps you'd be interested to learn that my parents are Hungarian and that my twin brother and I are actually the first generation to be born here in America!  We grew up eating, drinking, and breathing in the delicious aromas of my mother's and grandmother's cooking and believe that - especially, now that it's FINALLY started getting a bit nippley here in Jersey - there's nothing better than a big old steaming bowl of Gulyás soup on a cold day.

I bet you thought it was a beefy sort of stew served over noodles, yes?

Well, Amber's husband Len did and so did Donna's husband - I've since set them straight, the poor misinformed things - that red gravy-laden stew served over noodles (or, dumplings) is actually called Pörkölt and can be prepared using beef, veal, lamb and chicken.

So, I promised them the recipe...um...a while ago...and would love to share it here, with you all.

But, not before announcing the winner of the Bloggy Giveaway from...uh...has it been a week, already!?!

We put all the names of the wonderful people who stopped by and left a comment in a hat - you know I love you, right - and had Mini-Me draw the lucky winner.

Yay, it's Gretchen from MommyCast - Gretchen was the one who helped me make my trip to California picture perfect - so, what has she won?

My parents returned from a 5 week trip to Hungary, in October, and - in memory of the men, women and children who lost their lives during the Hungarian Revolution of 1956 - I am proudly giving away a beautiful handmade linen table runner, they brought back from my mother's village of Mosonmagyarovar, Hungary.

Congratulations, Gretchen - I didn't forget, see Sharon - and please accept our gift as a small token of my appreciation and friendship.

And now, our recipe for Gulyás:

Gulyas Leves (Hungarian Goulash)

1 large onion (diced)
3 carrots (chopped)
2 parsley root (diced)
3-4 potatoes (cubed)
2 green peppers (diced)
1-2 tomatoes (diced)
1-2 lbs. stew beef (cubed)
6 cups hot water
2 tsp. paprika
2 cloves garlic
1 tsp. salt (add more to taste)
black pepper (to taste)
1-3 bay leaves
3 TBS. canola oil
1 tsp. caraway seeds steeped in water.
dumplings

1.  Heat oil in large stock pot, saute onion for 3-5 minutes.

2.  Add the chopped meat and stir until well browned.

3.  Stir in chopped onion, carrots, parsley root, green peppers and garlic, heat for 3-5 minutes.

4.  Stir in tomatoes.

5.  Add water, paprika, salt, black pepper, bay leaf, parsley and bring to boil.

6.  Steep caraway seeds in a 1 cup of boiling water, strain caraway tea into soup.

[Note:  My family prefers adding the caraway tea, rather than putting the seeds directly to the soup.]

7.  Turn to low heat and simmer for about 15-20 minutes.

8.  Add potatoes and simmer until potatoes and meat are well cooked.

9.  Add Csipetke (Chee-pet-keh) to simmering soup.

------------------------------------------------------------------

Csipetke (pinched pasta)

1 large egg, at room temperature
3/4 all-purpose flour
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 tablespoon water

1.  Add flour to bowl, making a well (with your fingers) in the middle of the flour.

2.  Add the egg, salt and water, mixing until well combined.

3.  You're going to have to use your hands and squeeze the dough together.  Dough will look coarse.

4.  Turn out onto floured table; knead until smooth.

5.  Using forefinger and thumb, pinch off small bits of dough - add to simmering soup to cook.

Phew, there ya' go - the real deal - and if you're STILL here...well...I'll love you until the day I d'ugh...um...stop remembering my name!

[knocking on wood until knuckles bleed]

Did I mention we're a superstitious lot!?!?

Parenting Tip #22,915,002: Never underestimate the power of sustainable housekeeping!

Years ago - before kids and killer dust bunnies took over my brain - my husband and I had dinners and entertained a lot (with real food!) and for the "entertainment" portion of the evening, he used to love to play dirty little housekeeping tricks on me.

"Watch this!"

[places wine glass on cocktail table]

"7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2..."

[places coaster under wine glass and wipes table]

"Can I get anyone, anything?"

[lots of giggling]

"She's nuts, I tell ya'!"

Okay, so maybe I used to be a little overzealous about the cleaning - a domesticated freak show, apparently - but, after years of trying to keep up with four kids - not to mention, their laundry - I've since removed the Swiffer from out of my butt and adopted my own Full House philosophy in house cleaning.

Then my kids got older and they all sort of started needing stuff - like clothes, shoes and lunch bags - to be, you know, clean and...cough-cough...organized, just to get them to school.

This time of year, I'm pretty much done with that, too!

"I need something to make a dessert for a project for my Italian class!"

Watch this.

"When do you need it?"

[biting lip]

"Um...tomorrow!?!"

[looks at clock]

"It's 8 o'clock on a Sunday night."

7,6,5,4,3,2...

"Are you nuts...nope, I'm not doin' this...not this time...I am SO done!!!"

Thing One (a.k.a. Last minute Annie) and her projects have caused more stress on her father and I than, well, all the craft projects we've had to put-together, the last minute, for any one of our children, for the passed month, at least!

"Nope, I am NOT saving your butt, not again!"

So, we're on our way back from Stop and Shop - what? - because, well, I am a DORK and there wasn't any sugar in the house - what, NO SUGAR!?! - wait, I'll let that settle in, for a minute....YES, I take sugar in my coffee, thank you...okay, and I'm pretty proud of myself for not, you know, flipping out.

"Just melt the chocolate chips for about 30 seconds and dip the Stella D'oros in and..."

Watch this.

"Oh, CRAP!"

[grabs forehead as Thing One ducks for cover]

"I totally forgot Little Man's diorama is due, tomorrow!"

7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2...

SNAP!

Now, a few years ago, the much younger, yet freakish me would have taken Little Man to the Hobby Shop, gathered all of the materials, necessary to create the perfect ocean environment and even have him pick out the sea life for his aquatic diorama.

"This is what we've got and we'll make it work!"

Never underestimating the power of collecting and saving an abundant supply of what seems to be useless crud - not to mention, never having thrown anything away since 1993 - see, I knew this crap would come in handy, some day!

Meet Humpty, the humpback whale - he's a handsome-looking mammal (though, it's hard for you to see his fins fashioned from black construction paper) happily blowing his bubbles (saved from a broken strand of Christmas beads) swimming in a sea of blue sidewalk chalk and hiding amongst the crepe paper sea weed.

Humpty was most recently moved from Cape May, NJ...

...and - though, I've been teased and chastised for cleaning my house in heels - ever the shoe box Diva, Little Man had his pick and Humpty gots himself a suburban house of pumps; a real fixer upper, go figure!

Mission accomplished - Humpty's diorama is TIGHT - and on time; we actually had fun and no animals (or, children) were harmed in the making of yet another gosh-darned school project!

Let that be a lesson to us all!

[ring-ring]

"Hello, Mom...um...it's me, Little Man...I forgot my project on the kitchen table, this morning...and could you bring it in the next 10 minutes...or, the teacher's gonna give me a zero!?!"

SNAP!

[Next week:  How to alienate yourself from your child's teacher, and cursing in two different languages, in three easy lessons...or less!]

The best part about giving birth is when my husband does NOT think it is that easy, either, along with other things anyone can do with a glue gun!

After 2-1/2 hours of labor -- not to mention, enough time for me to get the grocery shopping done -- my husband helped give birth to my son's idea of the perfect brother, as his science recycle project, last night.

"Ah, he's adorable - what's his name, honey?"

I quickly took a picture with my camera phone of - what I thought - was the cutest little robot, I'd ever seen! But, you know, I could have sworn I'd seen the look on my husband's face, before.

"It's...um...Gerard...uh...I mean, Melvin...no, wait...Spike...yeah, that's it...his name is Spike Dude!"

Let's see - face all swollen, red and looking a little blotchy - yep, I've definitely seen this look before.

"Oh, that's a good name - for a robot, I mean - you and Daddy did a really great job, while I was gone!"

Oh, man.

"Yes, and...you...are...so...lucky...to...still...have a son!"

Apparently, judging by the way my husband was clenching his teeth, it wasn't an easy delivery.

"Um...okay...but, it IS amazing, what you can do when you have a little time, patience and a glue gun, huh!?!"

Uh-oh.

"Um...okay...but, thanks for helping him...but, you know I really wouldn't have had the time to get the food shopping done, tomorrow...and...uh...well, giving birth is a lot harder, actually!"

D'oh.

"Okay, already...he's not the easiest kid to work with, I know...but, you and I don't work well in the kitchen, either...and he IS a lot like you, you know!?!?"

Apparently, not - perhaps, giving birth would have been easier - but, at least I know where NOT to touch a glue gun and that baby bots do NOT have...um...what...they look like utters, for goodness sake...growing on the top of its head!

"Do you like his brain - it is the best part and the easiest to make - because, it was your idea, Momma!"

On second thought, don't worry, honey - welcome to the family, Spike Dude - I'm sure that now, at least, you see it's not always fun being the mommy. But, I also understand your fascination with women's breasts and how, this time, it turned out to be a really good thing!

Next week - things you can do around the house by simply using a pair of high heels, a stapler, some toothpaste and a woman's keen sense of proportion.