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August 2014

So, you've got a kid "not" going to college - ME TOO!

One of the many things I love about blogging, that really hasn't changed in the last eleventy years, is it gives parents (like me) an opportunity to revisit a moment...that may otherwise have drifted off in the ebb and flow of nurturing a family...or a much simpler time...lost among the trials and tribulations that go along with raising teens...because TEENS!

Now, we have Facebook. So, it's sort of fun to be able to reconnect with childhood friends, seeing our kids all grown up and moving onto college  **sniff-sniff**   and how in the heck did THAT happen, because in my mind, we're ALL still like 17, right?!? RIGHT?!?

[sound of crickets, chirping]

Riiiiiiiight. What was I saying? OH YEAH! So, I've consoled quite a few of my Facebook friends, because sending off your kid to college is a really big deal. 

Unless you have a kid [or kids] who isn't [who aren't] going to college, like me.

Long story, short: although our two oldest daughters' situations are totally different, my husband and I have stood by their decision to put off college, because...well...suffice it to say, if the tables were turned...and YOU told ME that it is the right decision...I'd trust you to know your kid, better than me.

"Heather and Holly send their regards!"

My son had his first visit at the orthodontist, a few weeks ago.

"Oh, that's nice, send mine back!"

The girls had their last orthodontist visit a few months ago, which means the length and cost of their treatment was pretty much the equivalent of a bachelor's degree...YO!

"So, where is Heather going to school?"

UGH!!! Here we go, again.

"Actually, she's decided to take a gap year."

Now, here's my problem. If it were me, I'd be all like...oh, okay, that's good...because, you know, NOT my kid...and I really need to stop thinking about what I would say or do in a particular situation.

"Oh, well, I hope she learns something really important!"

Aaaaand, I need to stop taking OTHER folks so literally.

"Oh yes, she's a personal assistant to a local artist AND a production assistant for our county's teen arts program...it's right up her alley." 

Because, really, how many of us...love...Love...LOve...LOVe...absolutely LOVE our jobs...okay, I do...but, I mean, straight out of high school?!?

"Because, we WANT her to go to school...right?!?"

I literally turned and looked behind me...thinking she was asking someone else...because, I'm real quick, like that...and not really.

"Actually, it's a REAL good decision...FOR HER."

Now, I'm not quite sure if the orthodontist has children...or if she's even married...and it doesn't really matter, but it seems to me that...at this point in our conversation...common sense would tell you...STFU!...right?!?

"Well, I hope so!"

She shook her head...actually friggin' shook her head...clearly, SHE was disappointed.

"All kids go to college!"

Here's the thing, this is my personal opinion as a parent of older kids (20, 18, 15 and 13) and not having a college degree, my ownself.

"Sort of like, all dogs go to heaven?"

I'm NOT going to argue the benefits of going to college...there are many, I know...however, pushing MY kids to go to college...for the sake of going to college...well, that's just stupid.

"You know, the movie, all dogs go to heaven?"

She'd never heard of it...AH! HAH!...so, she does NOT have kids...aaaand, I'm okay wit-it.

"Good luck at school, Heather!!!"

I took Heather to the dermatologist, last week -- because we are ALL about supporting folks who've chosen to enter the medical field and are perhaps STILL paying for THEIR education...YO! -- and the receptionist was really being nice, I think.

Heather looked at me for a second, rolled her eyes and then answered her.

"Hey, thanks!!!"

Siiiiiiiiiigh. We then walked out and I gave Heather's shoulder a little squeeze.

"It's just that...well...I didn't think it necessary to explain myself to her."

Nope, and yep, because this kid is WAY smarter than me...too...and I'm okay wit-it!

The End.

©2003 -2014 This Full House with a fan page on Facebook, a way for you to subscribe to receive This Full House blog post by Email and everything!   

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

Did I ever tell you about the time I tried to sell my twin brother, in kindergarten?!?!

It was the first day of kindergarten. My grandmother dropped us off at the front door and I still remember my begging her to take me back home with her.

It's not like the school would miss me, there were tons of other kids waiting in line AND none of them had a twin brother...like I do.

My brother, however, was totally on board with kindergarten -- because the school had a playground and naptime was mandatory. How bad COULD it be?

Still. I had this plan:

  • We would alternate going to school.
  • My brother would go on Monday, Wednesday and Friday.
  • I would do Tuesdays and Thursdays.
  • WHAT?!? He liked school way better, remember?
  • On our days off, we would help my grandmother with the housework.
  • On weekends, my brother and I would teach each other what we learned.

Aaaaaaand, if that didn't work, I would then try and sell my brother to them...for free!

Brrrrrrrrrrrrriiiiiiiiing.

Too late. The bell rang, my brother and I were separated and I followed Mrs. Rivers into her classroom; it smelled of wet chalkboard and paste.

"Why are you smelling the Play Doh, Mommy?"

I have very few childhood memories, that aren't triggered by some sort of smell or taste (no, I did NOT eat the paste...they were using Elmer's glue!) so dropping each of my kids off for their first day of Kindergarten was a WHOLE DIFFERENT experience.

"Feel free to go home now, Mrs. Thompson."

For ALL of us.

"Duuuuude, we were listening to the radio at the office."

I was driving home with my 18yo...or maybe it was to the doctor's office...wait, no, I think we were picking up her 20yo sister at work...because her car was in the shop...AGAIN!...and WHEN in the stinking heck did THESE KIDS get old enough to drive AND work...**sniff-sniff**...my sense of smell is not what it used to be, either...doesn't matter.

"Aaaaaaand, the ladies were all SHOCKED when I started singing along!"

Not that she's shy (stop laughing, Melisa!) and she works with a very lovely bunch of ladies...all moms...around my age.

"They wanted to know how and why an 18yo would love 80's music so much?!?"

Raising 4 teens (okay, fine, you caught me, the oldest is in her 20's, I'm in denial!) a lot of people have asked me about the hardest part of being a parent and I tell them the same thing: forgetting that I'm supposed to be the adult!  

"I told them how you would play 80's music in the car, picking us up and dropping us off at school, every day."

See?!? I can fake being an adult, real good!!!

"Aaaaaand, I told them how we would ALL sing together REAL LOUD with the windows wide open and everything!"

This, my friends, I'm claiming as a parenting win...right there...yes?!? And it's all because this song came on the radio:

She gets it from me. OH!!! Aaaaaand, then...there was this one time in Kindergarten...when I tried sell my twin brother...but you know that story, already...right?!?

The end.

©2003 -2014 This Full House with a fan page on Facebook, a way for you to subscribe to receive This Full House blog post by Email and everything!   

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

Outing (and then dousing) my social media-shy husband for the #IceBucketChallenge!

Many of you already know my husband, Garth (not his real name) does NOT allow me to use his real name, let alone post pictures of him, here on my blog.

Aaaaaand, especially for new friends visiting with us for the first time, here's why: because living with a professional dork is hard, yo.

Tagging him on Facebook? Yeah, that would be a big HELL NO and FUHGEHTABOUTIT!

However, one of our mutual Facebook friends tagged him for the #IceBucketChallenge to help bring awareness to ALS, because she knows my husband has a REAL BIG heart and will out (and douse) himself for charity.

He waited until our oldest daughter got home from work (at well past our bedtime o'clock) and here's the most awesome part: he got the whole family involved!

Our youngest was in charge of the cue card...what?...it was late o'clock!...while our middle girl took the video and our son...ummmm...well, he DID cheer his dad on and then just sort of...you know...stayed out of the way. He hates ice. And water.

So, here's how it went down:

 

It took all of 11 seconds (and a $25.00 donation) to give ALS the virtual bitchslap it deserves.

Here's the REALLY MOST AWESOME part: now that it's on video, I get to watch my husband work his awesome, all over again...and again...and again...but, shhhhh...don't tell him, okay?!?

Unless you happen to be reading this post, Garth (not your real name)...then RELAX!!!...if you actually click on the darn thing you'll see, I did NOT post the ENTIRE video.

[one beat, two beats]

It's a gif and you're welcome!

©2003 -2014 This Full House with a fan page on Facebook, a way for you to subscribe to receive This Full House blog post by Email and everything!   

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

Oh yes! There will be tomatoes, dammit!

My brother and I grew up in a 5 room house that was roughly 950 square feet, surrounded by steel mills and iron factories, and a mind-bogglingly complicated network of railroad tracks running along a port built to accommodate large tankers sailing their way through to New York City.

Sitting on my parents' patio, flanked by rose bushes and arbors shaded by nearly every flowering and fruiting tree you can imagine, you'd believe yourself to be somewhere completely different.

My father was a landscaper throughout our elementary school years and he'd often times bring home truckloads of stuff -- trees and bushes his boss had thrown out or given up on at the end of the day, only after growing tired of arguing with my dad and his insisting that they were just merely "very nearly dead".

He'd plant the "very nearly dead" stuff under my bedroom window in a raised bed he'd sectioned off as "the hospital" and they would always (and I mean ALWAYS!) thrive enough to be re-planted, somewhere else.

At thirteen years old, I thought it was magical! 

For reasons too long (and boring!) to go into (you're welcome!) I decided NOT to plant a vegetable garden, this summer. However, my not being able to send one of the kids outside to pick a couple of tomatoes and cucumbers for dinner...well, yeah, no...it just doesn't seem like summer.

Oh, my brother sent over a couple of plants he'd grown from seed, but I never got a chance to get them into the ground in time and...well, yeah, no...they were just merely very nearly dead, dammit.

So, my husband sectioned off an area next to the shed and I threw the plants in there, hoping they would live, for a little while longer, maybe.

Then it rained (A LOT!) and then it got cold (welcome to New Jersey!) and we all pretty much lost hope of ever being able to pick a tomato or cucumber, fresh off of the vine.

Until, this morning. I went to hang a couple of blankets out on the clothes line (because the dryer is being all pissy!), glanced over toward the shed and guess what?!?

Late Bloomers

I was all like, "What magic is this?!?" and although they'd only JUST begun to bear fruit, "Oh yes! There WILL be tomatoes!!!" DAMMIT!

Late Bloomers 3

Aaaaand, cucumbers...**wipes tears from eyes**...we WILL have cucumbers...YAY!!!

Late Bloomers 2
After my son cuts the grass and I get the youngest to do a little weeding, of course...because, she's the one that placed the "Hope" stake into the garden...it's all HER fault, right?!? RIGHT?!?

[sound of crickets, chirping]

Riiiiiiiiiiight. But don't tell her I said so, because Hope is thirteen and STILL believes in magic, too!

©2003 -2014 This Full House with a fan page on Facebook, a way for you to subscribe to receive This Full House blog post by Email and everything!   

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

My kid friended ME on Facebook, now what?!?!

Raising 3 teens, and a kid who's turning 21 in a couple of months (no she isn't, I'm still in denial!), our parenting philosophy has changed quite a bit over the years, because: what worked with 1 kid isn't necessarily gonna fly with another, all 4 of ours have their own way of ignoring us, dammit.

There is one rule, however, that has remained tried and true: we made our kids "friend" us on Facebook.

Why? Because, their world was growing bigger, while our collective parenting street cred has decreased exponentially, it's the internet.

Also, we made our oldest kids wait until they turned 13, because we're really mean and can totally suck wet poodle, like that.

Long story, short: our youngest turned 13 last June, but -- unlike her middle sister, who joined Facebook on practically the hour she turned 13 -- this one thought it better to wait, because...in her words...it's like giving mean girls a microphone.

Word! And I was okay wit-it, because MEAN GIRLS SUCK WET DONKEY BALLS!

Even longer story, short (gosh, but vague-blogging is hard!): My two oldest daughters both have part-time jobs (my middle girl has 2, see previous parenthesis) with varying shifts, and I tag-team carpooling duties with my oldest, who often times is running late and forgets her cell phone at home, which means someone is texting me to either "Don't forget to pick me up at whatever o'clock!" and "Where are you?" or "HURRY UP!" right now, probably.

"Ummmm, okay, and who is this?!?"

So, getting to the point of this story (because I really do have one, promise!): My youngest daughter considers herself lucky, whenever I remember her name, half the time.

"Did you get a friend request from someone, today?"

I walked through the front door and had just thrown my purse on the faux fireplace.

"I don't know, who?"

[BIG GRIN]

Ohhhhhh, right. It's been like, two months. DUH!

"But don't worry, I made it private."

As private as putting it ALL out on Facebook can get, right?!?

"Aaaaand, Papa is on Facebook."

Yep, my Dad is also my very own personal social media police and he's pretty quick to call the rest of our family members out on stuff he reads on the internet...until his youngest grand daughter figures out Tumblr...anyways...

So, yesterday I'm checking Hope's Facebook, because Papa's gotta sleep sometime and....OHHHH...EMMMM...GEEEE!!!

"Bwahahahahahahahaha...[inhales]...SNORT!!!...Bwahahahahahahahaha!!!"

My 13 year-old's first post on Facebook:

Special K hands
I feel like edward scissor hands with a box. Tip: don't leave empty boxes in our house...you will have to wear it for a couple mins

This is what Hope did NOT share: we are CONSTANTLY finding empty boxes left in the pantry, my husband made her siblings wear empty boxes too, so they couldn't text or use the internet for a good 10 minutes, and how she considered herself lucky, because he made our 15yo son wear a family-sized Oreo box...on his head...YO!

Moral of the Story: If it's on Facebook, it's totally blog-able, no more vague-blogging!

In case you're wondering, my son did NOT post it on his Facebook, and he reads my blog so...sorry dude and you're welcome.

Still, I think this whole kids on Facebook thing is going to work out just fine...shhhhhhhh...don't tell my kids that, not until NaBloPoMo is over, m'kay?!?

©2003 -2014 This Full House with a fan page on Facebook, a way for you to subscribe to receive This Full House blog post by Email and everything!   

I'm attempting to NaBloPoMo it this month, feel free to check out what I've NaBloPoMo-ed, so far. And I may have missed a day, or twenty. Oh and just so you know, I'm unplugging on weekends and going blog free, because family time is also very...SQUIRREL!!!

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

Wordless Wednesday: Sand Dunes and Blue Skies

Cape Cod Weekend Getaway 2014 watermarked
this is my happy place, and my imaginary house is just over there, on the right....

Linky Love BytesWordless Wednesday HQ

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©2003 -2014 This Full House with a fan page on Facebook, a way for you to subscribe to receive This Full House blog post by Email and everything!   

 I'm NaBloPoMo-ing it this month, feel free to check out what I've NaBloPoMo-ed, so far. Oh and just so you know, I'm unplugging on weekends and going blog free, because family time is also very...SQUIRREL!!!

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

The Banana Bread That Would NOT Die!

Don't get me wrong, we LOVE banana bread, it is on our top ten list of comfort foods! The thing is, here's the thing: we also LOVE bananas, we can NEVER keep enough in the house and they just don't last long enough to go all banana bread-worthy.

Yesterday, however, I saw 3 pretty close to being banana bread-worthy candidates sitting in the banana bowl and was all...YAY!!!...I'm going to make us some banana bread.

Long story, short: if you've visited with us before, for any length of time, then you probably already know -- NOTHING ever goes as planned, around here.

Good thing I'm good with not planning stuff, right?!? For example: 

There's no butter in the house!

-- no problem, substitute canola oil.

But, there's not enough canola oil in the house!

-- okay, so no biggie, make up the difference with some olive oil; it's almost the same thing, really.

Mmmmmm, it's already starting to smell REAL good up in here...oh, but HEY!!!...why are those two eggs still on the counter?

-- CRAP! Okay, so it's only been in the oven for like what? 5 minutes? Dump the batter back into the bowl (yes, I cleaned the bowl first, because EWWWW!!!) and just gently wisk the eggs in.

Are you sure you reset the timer, right? Because just not getting that...BANANA BREAD!!!...smell, anymore!

-- DANGIT! Okay, so digital timers are the devil! Actually forgetting to tell the oven it needs to "BAKE" the banana bread doesn't help any, either. Calm down, it's been only like 10 minutes (give or take 20), just remember to turn on the stupid oven.

Are you sure this banana bread is actually going to, you know, work out?

NOOOOOOOOOO!!! And if it does? It'll be a Christmas in August miracle, dangit.

Best Danged Banana Bread EVUH!
best danged banana bread, evuh!

Merry Christmas to all and may ALL your bellies be filled with...BANANA BREAD!!!

Okay, that's nice, but did it actually..you know...taste good? Seriously, what WAS the end result of the banana bread that would NOT die?!?

Best Danged Banana Bread ALL GONE!
best danged banana bread, all gone!

We killed it. The end.

©2003 -2014 This Full House with a fan page on Facebook, a way for you to subscribe to receive This Full House blog post by Email and everything!   

 I'm NaBloPoMo-ing it this month, feel free to check out what I've NaBloPoMo-ed, so far. Oh and just so you know, I'm unplugging on weekends and going blog free, because family time is also very...SQUIRREL!!!

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