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February 2011
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March 2011

Doofus Domesticus vs Phasma Phasmatis

Exhibit C
Exhibit A:  Came home to find the cat's dish and cereal bowls neatly stacked in the living room.

Exhibit A
Exhibit B:  Where they were when I left the house, this morning.

Exhibit B
Exhibit C:  Doofus-Dawg avoiding eye contact which, clearly, is an indication that he's got something to hide....not to mention, he can reach the sink AND the stove...PINHEAD!!!

Truth be told, the fact that he neatly stacked the bowls, when he was sort of freaking me out...okay, more than just a little...or, maybe we have ghosts.

Either way, I wonder what it will take to get them to fold the laundry?

Since, you know, I can't get my kids to understand that the dish washer is dirty....DAMMIT!

On the other hand, I could just let the dog take care of it, seeing as he doesn't seem to mind licking the floors and vacuuming the crumbs off the carpets, either.

But, THEN what would I complain about?

© 2003 - 2011 This Full House

© This Full House 2003-2019. All rights reserved.

Mom Blogging Pain Scale

Mom Blogger Pain Scale

My mom and I were talking and both happened to glance outside her kitchen window and watched, as my 9 year-old tried to get her 15 year-old sister, who was reading a book at the time, to play with her.

Judging by her stomping off and kicking her brother's scooter, it was pretty clear to the both of us that her attempts were, you know, unsuccessful.

"I think she caught us looking."

Because, the kid quickly turned and thought better about leaving the scooter in the middle of the cul-de-sac.

"She's going to kill me, that one is."

Okay, I know, yes I was being overly dramatic (sort of) but, after 17 years of raising kids (and killer dust bunnies) I'm pretty tired at this point in the game.

Does it show?

I fully expect that they (i.e. non-parental units living in my house) will figure this out, soon enough, especially once I finally get those iron bars mounted to their bedroom window(s).

"It's never easy, no matter how old your kids get."

My mother was right, of course (just like with most other things, as I've learned over the years) I swear, she's got this sixth sense about her. 

It's like the woman knows what I'm thinking, or, at least, what she thinks I need to hear.

"Nope, you never stop being a parent."

How DOES she DO that?

Then, it hit me (as the most obvious things tend to do) like a smack to the forehead.

"Moooooooom, can you PLEASE do something about her?"

It's called validation and pretty much the reason why I started contributing to the blogging community, almost 8 years ago, in the first place.

"What would you suggest...hanging...crucifixion?"

My 15-year-old suggested that a burning at the stake to be more than sufficient.


Contrary to the latest blogging statistics and demographics, I chose to go outside and scooter, instead!


Un-motorized, even.

[sound of crickets]

Silly mom bloggers.

Edited to Add:  I drew the Mom Blogging Pain Scale (not bad, eh?) but, the photo was taken by my 15 year-old and she doesn't know that I used it (yet) but, she will be okay with it, once she sees that I gave her full credit.

[heavy sigh]

Blogging used to be a lot easier, you know?

© 2003 - 2011 This Full House

© This Full House 2003-2019. All rights reserved.

The Writing on the Back Door

The Writing on the Door Upclose You know when stuff you read, or something someone says, makes you think so hard, that your eyes begin to cross with concentration and then you clench your jaw in absolute frustration, until you finally give up and go all:

"Look, you trying to tell me something, or what?"

Me, either.

Quite frankly, I try not to read into stuff...too much...because, well, with 2 teens and 2 tweens in the house (yeah, I know, right?) my head hurts enough, already.

Like most of my mom friends -- especially, those of us raising a bunch of raging hormones, that walk and talk, but refuse to tell you ANYTHING and dang if a person couldn't go blind, rolling their eyes like that -- I have become somewhat of an expert at dodging emotional grenades.

Until, one of my kids drops the h-bomb.

"I hate my life."

It doesn't matter which kid says it, really, because the sad truth of it is, each of them have said it, at least once and did I mention my youngest is 9?

"Don't you dare slam that..."


She's got a wicked arm, that one, which reminds me, I should really look into signing her up for softball.


I mean, she is the youngest and, well, empathizing with a mom friend, whose daughter recently turned hormonal, "Welcome to the dark ages."

I quickly reassured my friend that the black cloud will indeed lift, around the time our kids turn 12.

[knocking on wood until knuckles bleed]

I didn't bother mentioning the fact that they then become teenagers, because, heck, what do I know and the poor woman looked as if she needed a Tylenol, already.


I'm not even sure that their bedroom door is going to hold up (related:  all 3 share 1 bedroom, enough said!) it's been a loooong week, you know?

The Writing on the Back Door Then, I walked into the den/laundry room (mostly, laundry room) and noticed the writing on the back door (Hope likes to make lists) and, well, I fully expected to find myself at the TOP of her s-list:

  • Live your life your way not how someone tells you how to live
  • There is a whole world everybody can see right in front of our faces
  • Our planets can be very interesting things.  Like love is one of the most important things in life.
  • I have a dream that we will have peace in the world.
  • You can have fun one day.  You don't need a special electronic.  Just be creative.
  • When the sun sets and rises it goes up and down almost like life.  Sometimes life can get bumpy like a road.

Okay, I may not be the brightest crayon in the box (more like a dusty gray, really) but, DAYUM, if my kids aren't trying to tell me something?

Or, maybe they're just trying to drive me crazy?

[crosses eyes, clenches jaw]

Yeah, right, anybody got any Tylenol?

© 2003 - 2011

© This Full House 2003-2019. All rights reserved.

Then Again, If We HAD Won the HGTV Dream Home, What WOULD I Blog About?

House MagnetSome experts would say our house is eclectic -- you know, where stuff doesn't match, on purpose -- but, I like to call it, "Early American Yard Sale."

Or, what's another word for not so gently used?

Aaaaanyway, I was SO EXCITED about winning the 2011 HGTV Dream Home -- YES, I KNOW!!! -- the one in beautiful Stowe, VT, SO EXCITING, right???

Until, some other guy won it (JERK!) okay, not really.

The winner is a stay-at-home dad, lives somewhere near Chicago, with a growing family and a small house, too.

Aaaaand they used to live in Jersey, so YAY (sort of!) although, I would have been much, MUCH more, you know, visibly excited.

Does no one jump up and down, or do the happy dance, anymore?

Every year.  The same thing.  I've had to curse someone out...for winning, MY HOUSE...but, I'm slowly getting over myself.

Frankly, there are folks out there who would love to be able to live in a house...let alone, own one...broken as ours is.

At the end of the day, my kids call it home and, well, our house has got good bones.

In fact, I wrote a post, 3 years ago, about the 13 things I haven't managed to break...YET!!!

So, I thought it would be sort of fun to revisit them and see if, you know, stuff still works.

Blow Dryer Before and After
Blogged 2008:  My beloved blow dryer  I've had it so long, I don't remember when I bought it, and I believe that blow dryers - sort of like, dogs - begin to take on the characteristics of their human counterparts. 

TODAY:  It's a little dinged and gets overheated, sometimes (you're welcome!) but it still works!!!

GG Table Before and AfterBLOGGED 2008:  G.G.'s table.  My mother-in-law gave us this telephone table.  It belonged to her mother.

TODAY:  Still have the itty-bitty chair, too, but I've since moved the violet to the kitchen (yes, it's STILL alive...see?) because, this one time, during summer camp, I forgot to water it...then, over-watered it...and, well, you can't see the BIG old water stain...can you? 

Dyson Before and After
BLOGGED 2008:  Mr. Dyson's Opus.  What, doesn't everyone name their housekeeping buddies?  Oh, dear Mr. Dyson, how I love this vacuum cleaner.

TODAY:  We set a place for him at the kitchen table.

Christmas Cactus Before and After
BLOGGED 2008:  G.G.'s Christmas Cactus.  Another gift from my mother-in-law (because, she must really, really like me) this is a cutting from her father's Christmas Cactus and is about a bazillion years old.

TODAY:  It FINALLY bloomed one, lonely, little flower (I even blogged a picture of it, just last week) but, the cat ate it...damnit!

Fridge Before and AfterBLOGGED 2008:  The Refrigerator.  Yes, it's still running and the very first appliance purchased for the house, when we moved in 15 years ago.

TODAY:  3 years and 2 refrigerators, later (dang, but some appliances break easy) we had to move the new one to the other side of the kitchen. I imagine we'll need a new house for the next one...sheesh!

Creeping Charlie Before and After

BLOGGED 2008:  Creeping Charlie.  Charlie's not very happy with me, at the moment.  Don't know why, though.  He's got the whole corner, to himself.

TODAY:  You are very sadly missed, Charlie.

China Cabinet Before and After

BLOGGED 2008:  China cabinet filled with pretties from Hungary.  Because, I keep them ALL behind glass and Garth (not his real name) cleans it...'nuf said.

TODAY:  He doesn't clean it, anymore, either and I just tell everyone that it's for philanthropic reasons, as we're currently housing a colony of dust bunnies, rent free.

Sir Fig Newton Before and After
BLOGGED 2008:  Sir Fig Newton.  Some of my best childhood memories are from trips visiting family in Hungary and picking fresh figs from my Uncle's tree.  It was HUGE and had a rope swing hanging from one of its branches.  This one, not so much.  I've always wanted a fig tree and finally bought a young plant, last spring.

TODAY:  I planted it in our backyard, last summer.  Then, it snowed...and snowed...and snowed...and, well, you's been a real tough winter...but, is STILL alive...that's right...because, it's a Jersey fig, bay-bee!

Cookie Jar Before and After
BLOGGED 2008:  The cookie jar.  We received this cookie jar on our wedding day...GULP...nearly 18 years ago.  Yes, it's still in one piece.  Nope, not even a chip.  I'm just as surprised as you are, believe me.  After 4 kids, 2 cats...etc...etc...yep, this little jar has seen a LOT of action!

TODAY:  Going on 21 years now and, well, none of us need to be eating any more danged cookies.  So, I hid it in my pretend pantry...shhhhhh, but don't tell Garth (not his real name) he doesn't need to fact, feel free to grab a cookie, or 20!!!

Sneakers Before and After
BLOGGED 2008:  My sneakers.  I bought these when The Boy started kindergarten and, trust me, they have seen a LOT of mileage.  When doofus dog sees me putting these puppies on, he knows, it means maybe...just maybe...we are FINALLY going out for a walk!

TODAY:  He's just too danged tired to even care what I'm wearing, me either!

Geraniums Before and After

BLOGGED 2008:  These are MY geraniums.  All of these pots are from cuttings off of a plant I received after Thing One was born, 14 years ago.

TODAY:  They've continued to bloom...more and more, every, too.

Doofus Dawg Before and After
Aaaand, lastly...but, certainly not least-ly...the Doofus-Dog.  He's lucky I haven't killed him, yet. 

TODAY:  What, with that face?  Besides, his faith in me is virtually matter how much I may curse him...out loud.

Besides, if I really DID win the HGTV Dream Home, then, my friends, this post would never have happened.

[sound of crickets chirping]

Stupid HGTV!!!

© 2003 - 2011 This Full House

© This Full House 2003-2019. All rights reserved.

Sundays in My City:
Springtime at the Jersey Shore


I love this time of year, here in on the Jersey coast, when my kids and I feel very lucky to have quick access to some of the prettiest beaches, like our favorite at the Gateway National Recreation Area in Sandy Hook, NJ.


The parking lot fills up pretty quick in the summer.  Friday, however, was the perfect day to celebrate all the good things that living in a shore town has to offer.


Like, exploring the jetty.


Or, playing chicken with the breakwater.


Getting lost, for hours, hunting for sea glass and mermaid toe nails.


Having the beach, all to ourselves, is a luxury and a perfect time for private contemplation.


Aaaand, much silliness.


Yes, Friday was a good day. In fact, seeing how this weekend is going, I'm still there...lalalalalalalalala!

Happy Sunday!!!

To see other scenes from around the world, check out Unknown Mami’s Sundays in My City.

Unknown Mami

Oh, and feel free to clean off a chair, sit down and visit my Flickr photostream.

© 2003 - 2011 This Full House

Freshly-Brewed Review & Also Sharing:  Staples MiniMate Shredder

© This Full House 2003-2019. All rights reserved.

Spring Forward & Two Steps Back

Christmas Cactus 2
It was a gift from Garth's (not his real name) mother.  She grew it from a cutting off of her Christmas Cactus, which came from her father's garden and it's about a bazillion years old.

It's been chewed on, pee'd on (stupid cats) and knocked over at least a dozen times (dumb dog) or so.

It never bloomed.  I don't blame it, really.  Still.  Last year, my mother-in-law insisted that I take it outside and that it would be fine.

So, I did.  Kept it out all summer, in hopes that it would bloom, in time for Christmas, or before I knocked it over with the lawn mower.

It FINALLY did....YESTERDAY!!!....after all this lonely flower.

How sad is that?

Christmas Cactus 1
But, if you look real close, passed all the chewed on leaves and the mis-matched water bowl, well, it's a real pretty flower, isn't it?

Christmas Cactus 3
But, if you take two steps back, it's positively ironic how blindingly beautiful it looks.

There's a metaphor in there, somewhere, aaaaand, well, I just love that, you know?

Happy Love Thursday!

© 2003 - 2011 This Full House

© This Full House 2003-2019. All rights reserved.

She'll Make the O List, For Sure

Mom's To Do List My youngest daughter is a habitual list maker.  This weekend, I found this one taped to the kitchen wall.

Funny, these lists are almost NEVER for her.

I'm beginning to think that the kid has figured me out.

I mean, seriously, after 17 years of raising kids (and killer dust bunnies) not to mention, having yet another anniversary of my 29th birthday creeping around the corner (conspiring with the dust bunnies, not doubt) I sure could use the help.

Besides, she almost always ends my day with a snuggle and, well, how awesome is that?

Then, I read Dad's to do list.

Dad's To Do List She thought it best that he switch into his pj's, before eating dinner (practical, right?) but, on second thought, crossed off the snuggling part.


Because, the kid also knows that it takes Garth (not his real name) less than 60 seconds to, you know, fall asleep.

That, or the Doofus-Dawg has beat him to the punch and there's just no more room, dangit.

Conclusion:  That girl, right there, is going to make a great organizational expert, one day, right?

Or a few thousand hours on some therapist's couch.

Either way, be sure to watch for her on Oprah.

© 2003 - 2011 This Full House

© This Full House 2003-2019. All rights reserved.