Hope

Yes, My Daughter And I Love Kinky Boots And OMG, TODRICK HALL!

I was excited to have been invited to attend an evening performance of Kinky Boots The Musical on Broadway last week, and absolutely thrilled about my being allowed to bring a guest, so I asked my 15-year old if she would like to join me, you know, for a Mother/Daughter Broadway date, or something. Todrick Hall (c)Matthew Murphy OMG!!!...was her response, followed by...TODRICK HALL!!!...and then...OMG, TODRICK HALL!!!...and this is about the time I started to feel really, really excited about these tickets...beeeeecause...OMG, 15-YEAR OLDS ALMOST NEVER SMILE...and...OMG, MY 15-YEAR OLD CANNOT STOP SMILING!!! Rainstorm or nah, #KinkyBoots here we come! #motherdaughtergoals A photo posted by Liz Thompson (@thisfullhouse) on Nov 29, 2016 at 1:43pm PST So, whose idea was Kinky Boots, and why should EVERY teenager (and future parents of teenagers) see it? The cast of Kinky Boots (c)Matthew Murphy I'll be totally honest with you, not having read the... Read more →

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Why Did I Let My Kid Shred My Hair?

Our youngest cut her own hair when she was 3 years-old (the only one of our four to ever do that, by the way), because being the youngest can be really hard, you know? Unless you have (and know how to rock) a pair of pink cowgirl boots, of course! Garth (not his real name) and I have always tried really hard to help our kids cultivate their own sense of style (i.e., point them toward the clearance racks and just get out of their way), however, Hope had fully-grasped her sense of...um...uniqueness at a very young age. Still, it's hard to be the youngest, feeling like you're constantly following along in someone else's footsteps can be a bit lonely, even in a houseful, sometimes. Our baby girl has gone through many transformations in her 15 years of being...ummmm...Hope. Her Goth stage was the most...errrrr...interesting...and don't EVEN think about bringing... Read more →

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

The Book Thief

My husband and I have always been avid readers. I'm not sure exactly how many books (hardcover and paperbacks) we've collected over the 25 years we've been married, because that would involve digging them out, dusting them off and actually counting them and, well, ain't nobody got time for that, but I'm pretty sure the number is in the hundreds. And I have a confession to make. Ready? Okay! Here it is: I am a historical romance novel addict, from way back. Date night with my oldest and youngest girls. If anyone needs me, I'll be right here...immersed in one of my guilty pleasures...don't judge. A photo posted by Liz Thompson (@thisfullhouse) on Apr 19, 2014 at 5:06pm PDT My love affair...ahem...with historical romance novels...siiiiiiiigh...runs deep...heh, I said deep...and long...oh my gosh, fiiiiiine, I'll stop, right now...and I'm pretty sure I've read (and re-read) every Lisa Kleypas novel in the... Read more →

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NaBloPoMo 2015: Under Pressure

Our youngest daughter is not a fan of hospitals. Not that anyone we know is all...yay, we're going to the hospital!!!!...or anything...but if she were to measure up with her three siblings, when it comes to being squeamish, Hope has succesfully unlocked the "Holy Crap, I'mma Throw Up!" achievement medal at the age of 8. If it is associated in any way, shape or form to the medical profession, she will work herself into a full blown anxiety attack and then projectile vomit all over your nice, crisp, white medical lab coat -- you're welcome! At fourteen, it bothers her to no end whenever someone suggests she is simply being dramatic and clearly that someone has never witnessed anyone projectile vomit...like a boss. Long story short: I've been taking medication for hypertension and monitor my blood pressure, regularly. And Hope had a breakthrough while visiting my Dad at the rehab... Read more →

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Pink Hair, Don't Care, Unless You Happen To Be My Kid!

I have straight fine hair (and by fine I mean not like...duuuuude, you got some fine-looking hair... but more like...duuuuude, your hair is soooooo fine, can't do nothing wit-it!), so I keep it short and make sure to take many selfies on good hair days...you know...to document...on the Internet...forever and ever, amen. "What color are we doing, today?!?" Fortunately, my hairdresser has known me for a very long time and happens to be a good friend of mine. "Oh, I don't know, surprise me!" She is also a master colorist and a Ninja with a pair of razor shears. We have pretty much lived through every color on the Redkin spectrum, together. "I have decided to dye my hair pink!" Okay, I lied, except pink. Which is probably why our youngest daughter...who has dark hair and looks a lot more like me than any of my other kids...poor kid...decided it... Read more →

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Teenagers, You Goth To Love Them!

One of the BIGGEST fallacies you'll ever hear about parenting teenagers...IMHO, as a parent of teens, four times over, maneuvering through waves of hormonal and emotional angst for the last 9 years...both theirs AND mine...is the popular belief that parents of teens are entirely responsible for their children’s behavior. That is SO not true! I am mostly responsible for my teens behavior, but not entirely. Like adults, teenagers have their own agenda and many times (okay, mostly) it involves doing exactly the OPPOSITE of what their parents would do in almost any given situation and, well, it's a part of growing up. Hope: I'm going to go with Holly and pick Heather up from work! Unless you happen to be 13 years-old AND your 3 siblings happen to be older than you...well then...I am most assuredly responsible for her behavior...entirely. Me: Hang on, let me see your face! Something you... Read more →

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The Growth Plates

It's been 10 years since my parents sold their house and moved further down the shore to live in a retirement village, or what my kids fondly refer to as "Camp Mama and Papa," but they each have their own very special memories about the house on 10 Union Street and enjoy sharing stories that usually begin with, "Remember that time at Mama's and Papa's old house?" and end with my youngest not having a clue about what they are talking about. "You were just too little to remember." It's tough being the youngest, sometimes. Okay, mostly every day, especially if you ask our youngest. She was only 3 years-old when my parents moved and, unlike her 3 siblings, she hadn't "learned how to swim in Mama and Papa's pool" or "ride a scooter down their street" and finding little reminders around our own house isn't helping any. "Are these... Read more →

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