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February 2012

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.


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

© This Full House 2003-2017. All rights reserved.

Parenting Tip #2,189,562: Talking to Your Kids About Sex, Drive and Let Them Do ALL the Talking FIRST!

I was in the 5th grade when we were herded into gym class to watch someone's mother (or, maybe she was an older sister, I forget) as she wrestled with a "sanitary belt" (I know, I'm old, shuddup!) and we wondered what in the heck the boys were doing, right at that moment.

I first French-kissed a boy in the 6th grade, in between a chain-linked fence that separated the baseball field from the basketball courts and spent the next few weeks in absolute terror until one of my friends finally convinced me that...uh, no and DER! can NOT get pregnant from kissing.

Aaaand, thus ends the extent of my education into womanhood.

Then, I had children and I swore up, down and sideways that MY kids will not be afraid to ask me ANYTHING about, well, EVERYTHING!

"Mom, what's an erection."

Continue reading "Parenting Tip #2,189,562: Talking to Your Kids About Sex, Drive and Let Them Do ALL the Talking FIRST!" »

© This Full House 2003-2017. All rights reserved.

All the Leaves Are Brown, Let's Smell Them!

Fallen Leaves

A couple of weeks ago my middle girl and I were hiking in the woods -- yes, like in trees, we have lots of them here in Jersey -- when I suddenly stopped to take this picture and managed to annoy quite a few joggers along the way.

Can't help it, I want to remember.

The sound of the trickling water was just so calming and then the smell of the wet leaves hit, bringing me back to my childhood, when my twin brother and I would dig for creepy crawlies and begin taking turns imagining the most fantastic stories of hidden little imaginary worlds.

Gnarly Tree

I've since shared these stories with my children AND with my husband, Garth (not his real name) who learned of my fascination with tree spirits on our first "day date" and, well, yes, now that they're older, my kids are just as surprised as you probably are, right now, that he even bothered to, you know, call back.

Gnarly Vien

I was going through some photos, because this is the winter "I swear" to print and display updated pictures around the house and, well, yeah, it seems I really do spend a lot of time looking down on the ground or up at the sky.

"Look at those vines, Momma, let's go swing on them!"

But, there was this one time in the woods when my kid and I ignored the disagreeable looks of passersby, took a swing on a gnarly vine and forgot about life's rough patches...for just a little while, anyway.


Aaaaand, I may or may not have gotten a nose-full of leaves for my troubles.  Good thing I wasn't holding the camera, or my kid was too busy laughing, to take a picture, right?!?  RIGHT?!?

[sound of crickets, chirping]

Riiiiiiight, if anyone needs me, I'll be upstairs holding my middle girl's hair back, as we both finish getting SO OVER this warm-ish winter.

Stupid creeping crud!

© 2003 - 2012 This Full House

© This Full House 2003-2017. All rights reserved.

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! 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,


© 2003 - 2012 This Full House


© This Full House 2003-2017. All rights reserved.

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

© This Full House 2003-2017. All rights reserved.

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.

Continue reading "Valentine's Day Movie Meme: 14 Memorable Chick Flick Moments" »

© This Full House 2003-2017. All rights reserved.