This Full House

When You Give a Doofus-Dawg a Watermelon

2010-09-01T10:14:29-04:00

Doofus-Dawg on Watermelon

I love my dog. Truly, I do. Most of the time. He is a rescue. They found him tied to a dumpster. I can only imagine his life, b.u. (before us) still, there ARE pretty good reasons why we also refer to Rudolph as Doofus-Dawg (a.k.a. Pinhead) and why my husband, Garth (not his real name) texted me, while I was having dinner with the kids at my folks' house, last night.

"Wet sticky spot on living room rug, trail of dried juice on kitchen floor, watermellon gone, dish appears not to have broken, I'm not speaking to the dog."

Yes, he spelled watermelon wrong, so, I knew he WAS, you know, pretty angry.

"Where r u?"

Aaaand, I didn't answer him (right away) because, you know, I was THE ONE who left the watermelon on the counter.

"Why is the floor SO sticky?"

My son (he's 11 and, besides the dog and cat, is the ONLY boy in the house) woke up in a HORRIBLE mood, this morning.

"Rudolph ate some watermelon, last night."

Aaaand, he seems to be paying for it (see photo above) too.

"Ah, man, you kiddin' me, who left the watermelon out?"

Apparently, he wanted some.

"Um...Daddy DID!"

Relax. One good rescue deserves another, right? Besides, I'll tell him the truth, later (maybe) suffice it to say, I'm the one that has to live with the boy, for the next 8 hours, or so.

"AH, MAN!!!"

School starts tomorrow...THANKGAWD...stupid dog!!!

What I UnLearned on My Summer Vacation

2010-08-30T12:06:50-04:00

Happy 20th Anniversary to us, Garth (not his real name!)

Most of my kids go back to school, this week -- my middle girl has been accepted into a specialized high school and doesn't start until the Tuesday after Labor Day AND yes the other kids are NOT happy about it.

So, to soften the mood of our house (seriously, where DID the summer go?) my husband Garth (not his real name) surprised me for our 20th Wedding Anniversary (thanks for the well wishes, btw!) by taking a vacation day last Wednesday, Thursday AND Friday to spend more time with me (yes, ME!) doing absolutely nothing of REAL importance, which truly is a MONUMENTAL act of love, on his part.

Trust me, I know!!!

Although, it's nice to find some folks sharing their secrets to a happy marriage (97 of them, to be exact) I just think it would be prudent to just tell you that Garth (not his real name) and I have absolutely NO idea how we made it, this far!

Especially, considering what happened THIS passed weekend.

Down by the Bay in Keyport, NJ

No, we don't agree on EVERYTHING and yes, there's A LOT OF stuff we just don't see in exactly the same way (i.e. no politics at the dinner table or when sharp objects are nearby) but, sometimes, spending a gray and cloudy day together can be quite beautiful.

Hiking the red trail in Bushkill Falls, PA

We've made A LOT of mistakes over the years and repercussions of bad decisions seem to haunt us, repeatedly (DAMMIT!) but, sometimes, deciding to just follow the current downstream can be quite relaxing.

Twittering while under the influence of teenagers can be...uh...REAL educational.

Parenting is hard. Being "the parent" is even harder (yes, it's a word!) but, sometimes, a quiet moment can speak volumes and there's no need for words, really.

/Summer 2010.

That's what I did on my summer vacation -- all 3 days of it -- aaaand, I didn't even have to pack clean underwear or pop Dramamine, either!!!

[ppppffffllllbbbbttt]

Now, if only I could convince Garth (not his real name) my kids, as well as the rest of the free speaking world, that being a Professional Dork (like me) CAN be a viable and lucrative career choice.

[sound of crickets chirping]

CAN SO, TOO!!!

The Year of the Big Dress and Cinderella Poof!

2010-08-25T00:26:52-04:00

August 25, 1990

20 years ago (I know...I'm old...shuddup!) I was cruising down the Parkway (a.k.a. Garden State Parkway, for those of you who aren't, you know, from Jersey) surrounded by taffeta and covered in tulle (it was the end of the 80's, baby) as my soon-to-be-sister-in-law mooned traffic and made me laugh so hard, I snorted champagne out of my nostrils!

You would have thought SHE was the one getting married (the aforementioned Parkway-mooner, I mean) the way her hand shook, each time she filled my paper cup.

It took her forever to FINALLY convince her brother to ask me out.

"Just this once and then you leave me alone, right?"

I guess, since we DID get engaged, only 2 months later, she was just hoping it would, you know, work out.

Flash forward 20 years: taking into consideration, ALL the good times (and bad) oh, and even those days that totally sucked hairy donkey balls (you're welcome!) not to mention, 4 kids, 2 cats, 1 sock-eating doofus-dog AND enough laundry to circle the planet (twice) YES, I really would do it ALL over again.

However, this time, perhaps with MORE champagne, a little less tulle and I'd be the one, you know, mooning the Parkway.

So, what ARE we doing for our 20th?

[shrugs shoulders]

Well, in lieu of fine china (which, is a really bad gift idea, for a klutz, like me, btw!) we're celebrating by taking our kids hiking to Bushkill Falls, PA today (it's where he proposed) then, having lunch at Hot Dog Johnny's in Buttzville, NJ (I kid you not!) followed by a burping contest across the Delaware (because, nothing burps better than Johnny's birch beer!) and then probably order in for some Chinese food, tonight.

Because...unlike Cinderella...I did NOT marry the man of my dreams...THANK GAWD and I do....TRUST ME...every blessed day!!!

Sundays in My City: Stormy Skies

2010-08-22T20:30:17-04:00

Sometimes, even a cloudy day can be, you know, beautiful...

Greetings from New Jersey...taken with my Samsung what-cha-muh-call-it cell phone, because my camera is STILL broken!

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

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

Marrying the Man of My Dreams...NOT!

2010-08-20T14:56:31-04:00

The Pocono Mountains, August 1963

Next week, my husband Garth (not his real name) and I will be celebrating our 20th wedding anniversary.

Married. 20 years. To each other.

Inconceivable, considering I've only just turned 29, again (ahem!) but, how did we get here?

"Look, we found a box of old photos!"

Because, I've never been really very good at finishing what I start (cough!) and 2 out of 4 of their baby books are actually, you know, finished.

"Who's that?"

My dad. My mom. My grandmother. They ALL looked so young. I managed to hold onto it (barely) but, couldn't stop my hands from shaking when I remembered who must have taken the picture.

"Why does Papa look so sad?"

My grandmother was married to a very (and I mean VERY) abusive man (in the worse sense of the word, really) so, I can IMAGINE what my father was thinking at that very moment.

"I think he was maybe just nervous."

With good reason. My father had a tumultuous relationship with HIS father-in-law (which, happened to be on a good day) and, well, the decision to move in with his in-laws must NOT have been an easy one, either.

"Was she married?"

Growing up, in that house, however, was MUCH worse.

"Who?"

Still, ALL parents fight...right?

"Your grandmother."

Especially, with their in-laws...no?

"She was married, but then she got divorced."

Granted, I don't remember my friends ever talking about the police being called out to their grandparents' houses.

"For how long?"

Not as often as they visited mine, I mean.

"How long, what?"

Then, there was silence.

"How long was she married?"

Days and days without talking to each other.

"40 years, I think."

Doesn't matter. After a while, it all becomes a BIG blur anyway and, well, I just never dreamed it could be, or would be...any different...for me.

"She was married twice as long as you and daddy!?!?"

20 years. Married. To each other.

"Are you going to do something special for your anniversary?"

Inconceivable, indeed.

"Yeah, we're gonna stay married!"

Frankly, the man of MY dreams was WAY different.

"That's NOT funny, mom!"

Thank you, Garth (not his real name) for NOT being that man!!!

"Bet daddy would think it was funny."

I mean, he IS married to me, you know?

Wordless Wednesday Sisters Act...ing, Nicely

2010-08-18T10:00:00-04:00

Holly and Heather, Bayshore Waterfront Park 2010

Taken with my cell phone. Imagine what I could do with a REAL camera? Yeah, I'm looking at you, Garth (not his real name!)

Check out the Official Wordless Wednesday HQ
Tag, you're it: Wordless Wednesday

Surviving Foot in Mouth Disease

2010-08-16T14:36:46-04:00

I ran into a friend of mine at the drug store, on Saturday -- seriously, nearly knocked her over right in front of the feminine products aisle -- we haven't seen each other since, well, the last days of school and spent the next few minutes, you know, catching up.

"Enjoying a nice, quiet summer, I hope?"

I continued to babble on and on, trying to distract her from noticing the fact that I had NOT shaved my legs in two weeks (you're welcome!) by saying something about my two most favorite days of the year being the last day of school AND the first day of school!

"Did you hear that my mother died?

Aaaaand then, my brain screeched to a halt.

"Oh...no...I am SO sorry."

As, I lied (like a cheap rug) and pretended that I hadn't heard of the poor woman's loss.

"Well, it was GREAT to see you..."

What makes me so crazy about this whole thing is not so much the fact that I lied (sort of) rather, the realization that I was the one...having a REAL hard time...dealing with HER pain.

"Aaaand, how are the kids?"

How selfish is that, right? Honestly, I am just afraid of saying something really, really stupid (shuddup!) not to mention, making someone else feel, you know, worse, than they already do.

"What kids?"

[giggle]

"Your kids!"

You see, I have this disease.

"Oh...um...kids are good."

Or, maybe it's a condition.

"Well, it's really GREAT to see you..."

My husband, Garth (not his real name) swears it is more of a need to fill a void in conversation, passed down to me, by my father, who also seems to be allergic to awkward silence...

"Is your oldest driving, yet?"

...by saying the first thing that pops into my head...no matter how irrelevant...distracting the OTHER person long enough for me to think of something, you know, really, really smart to say.

"Um...er...no she's still walking...I mean...uh...who?"

This was NOT one of those times and I was about ready to drop my feminine products at the poor woman's feet and bolt for the nearest exit.

"My father gave our son his car."

Until, it FINALLY hit me.

"Really, what kind?"

Perhaps, I don't HAVE to say a gosh-darned thing.

"A Ford Taurus."

Aaaand, maybe...juuuuuust maybe....I could, you know, listen.

"We're thankful...the car IS kinda old, but it rides really well."

Then, I wouldn't really have to worry (too much) about saying the wrong thing.

"Me, too."

[one beat, two beats]

"No, wait...I didn't mean...well, it was GREAT seeing you."

Of course she knew what I meant (I think!) really, I was very thankful...to be able to make her smile...even just a little.

Morale of the Story: Smoking kills. If you're killed, you've lost a very important part of your life. ~ Brooke Shields, during an interview to become spokesperson for a federal anti-smoking campaign.

Which has NOTHING to do with MY story. Still. If YOU happen to hear of anyone looking for a spokesperson...an anti-dork campaign, perhaps?

"Well, it was REALLY great to see you...too!"

Then, I am your mom, DAMMIT!

High Tides and Green Skies, Jersey Forever?

2010-08-13T11:24:31-04:00

Mount Mitchill Scenic Overlook County Park, Atlantic Highlands, NJ

Actually, it was grayish, rainy and a bit chilly, yesterday.. PERFECT weather for some late summertime fun...here, in Jersey, anyway.

A lot of folks seem to like visiting New Jersey (on purpose) especially, our neck of the Jersey shore and I'm okay with that (mostly) I mean, if it weren't for the Bennies (i.e. people who visit here, only in the summertime) we'd probably have to pay A LOT MORE money to get on our beaches and MTV would NOT currently hold the #1 google rank it does, you know, today...DAMNIT!

Why so sensitive?

Having answered, "Where do you live?" dozens of times, in the last week with, "Just over the river, in Jersey," followed by ALL the apologetic looks and responses I found MYSELF inflicting on everyone, like, "Aaaand, it's NOTHING like the Jersey Shore," well, I find myself...feeling very ashamed...of myself, really.

Sandy Hook, NJ

NOTE TO SELF: This is MY home. My kids live here. My parents ran for their lives (literally) found safe haven and, eventually, raised their family, here...yes, in New Jersey.

"What a gorgeous view!"

After 40-something years (never mind how many, exactly!) you think my skin would be thick enough, already.

"UGH, but would you look at!"

[eyes go wide]

"Is that Jersey?"

I never even heard the group coming (who knew senior citizens could be so, you know, stealth-like?) and I'm still not quite sure where they were visiting from, actually.

"No ma'am, that's New York City."

Okay, so my skin IS thicker than I thought...and I got YOUR back NYC...DAMNIT!

"Really? Look at ALL that smog."

Okay, so Jersey is NOT perfect.

"Actually, there's a fog bank rolling in."

An #epicfail, governmentally speaking.

"Are you sure?"

But, it could be worse.

"It looks awfully like the crap we got at home."

I could be living...right next to HER!

"Yes, ma'am, I bet it does."

Gosh, but I feel waaaaaay better...already!

[snort]

Have a GREAT weekend, everyone and if anybody needs me, I'll be in the backyard, weeding my vegetable gardens, mowing the field behind the pool and generally avoiding the killer poison ivy that we seem to be growing...in bushels...yes, here in Jersey!

Stupid steroids!

Who's Been Sitting in My Chair and Why is My Kid Calling it Mom?

2010-08-11T13:16:40-04:00

My husband, Garth (not his real name) met me at the train station on Sunday and, after taking a quick look at my swollen legs, scaly arms, blistering hands and blotchy neck (you're welcome!) believing that my recent poison ivy infection had somehow morphed into leprosy (ditto) he drove me straight to the doctor's office.

"I can't breath."

Apparently, I still hadn't gotten over an unexpected trip to a NYC hospital and BusyMom wasn't around.

Seriously, it was ALL I could do to hold it together (wearing long sleeves and slacks in the summer, when it's Africa-hot, sucks donkey balls!) rest assured, getting ALL your hugs definitely helped me get through BlogHer.

"It's NOT leprosy."

Phew, good to know AND I bet you are just as relieved as I was (mostly) especially, if you and I, you know, actually hugged, or slept together (waves to Headless Mom) last weekend.

"Momeeeeeeeeeeeeee, you're home!"

My youngest daughter (she's 9) had a REAL hard time with me leaving on this trip (cried herself to sleep at my mother's house on Wednesday night) but, used her brother's cell phone to text me...often...and, you know, tell me so.

"Where's Daddy?"

So, it's very comforting (for me) to know that I was lucky enough to have snagged a guy, like Garth (not his real name) who is NOT afraid to, you know, tap into his inner-domestic diva.

"He's running an errand for mommy."

Aaaaand, of course, in the suburbs "errand" is code for...daddy is getting mommy drugs...or, boxed wine...no, not really...but, at this point, I would have taken a shot in the behind (being deathly afraid of needles, as I am) if it meant that the pain would stop, DAMMIT!

[eyes go wide]

"Ewwww, what is THAT!?!?"

Niiiiice. So, what the heck is wrong with me? Neither I, or my doctor knows (exactly) but, it seems that all those early mornings, late nights and traveling (i.e. walking a bazillion blocks, throwing myself in front of taxis and then saving other BlogHers) while under the influence of poison ivy, has stressed my immune system.

"Are you dying, or something?"

Good thing everything else in my life is stress-free!

"No, just itchy."

It's been a rough couple of weeks (okay, months, even, since I lost my job) and, although I understand life is very unfair sometimes (trust me, I STILL read blogs) after ALL these years of keeping up with This Full House (celebrating my 7th blogoversary, this month, btw!) my life is getting to the point where I'm just not quite sure of anything, anymore.

"Good, because I missed you so much..."

Then, Hope pointed at the alien...sitting in the dining room chair...draped with one (of many) of my denim jackets...with a place setting...right next to hers.

"...and I pretended that you were here!"

[shot to the heart]

I'm feeling much better now (less green, third eye almost gone) and, even though I'm STILL not sure, you know, about stuff (I think!) I do feel it safe to say that the steroids and allergy medicines had NOTHING to do with my immediate recovery.

[snort]

"It kinda, sorta looks like you, too, right Mommy!?!?"

Good thing my children love me...regardless...AND yes, some of them even snort...just like their mother.

I hope it lasts!

Just When You Thought It Was Safe To Attend BlogHer: SaveHer '10

2010-08-09T18:26:53-04:00

I mean, really, wrangling 2,000+ registered attendees (not to mention, the 11-ty billion others already living in/visiting NYC) something's bound to go wrong (coming from someone, whose attempts at throwing a dinner party, for 6, the last 16 years, has failed, miserably, more often than not) and, well, someone's destined to get their feelings hurt (see previous parenthesis) or, break something (ditto) right?

No worries, SaveHer '10 is here (i.e. alternate title: Riding in an Ambulance with BusyMom!)

[photo credit: FireMom]

It was a normal Friday evening (for BlogHer, anyway) BusyMom and I just finished attending a wonderful event, where we got to meet up, chat and nosh with awesome friends.

It was late (as evidenced by my heavy eye baggage, above) but, we both curiously found ourselves to be, you know, still hungry (BlogHer does that to me, some times) and thought we'd grab a quick bite at a deli. Didn't matter which one, really. New York is REALLY famous for their delicious choice in delicatessens.

Rightfully, so!

[sound of breaking glass]

My first thought was, holy crap, did someone just get shot?

"There's a woman laying on the sidewalk!"

Because, I'm observant like that and then my second thought was, holy crap, did the building fall on her?

"Maybe she's a blogger?"

That's when BusyMom donned her super cape (she's a nurse, ya' know?) and triage'd the injured woman, right there on 53rd street, in the middle of the sidewalk!

"Are you with me?"

Amazing stuff to witness, in person, really, and my third thought was, holy crap, how is this woman NOT screaming?

"Yes, it seems I've broken my arm."

An orthopedic surgeon, who happened to be dining at the same deli (clearly, they cater to those in the medical field) helped the injured woman sit upright.

My next thought was, holy crap, is an arm supposed to go like that?

Aaaaand, then the injured woman took one look at me (also, sitting criss-cross-applesauce on a New York City sidewalk) pointed with her non-mangled arm and screamed.

"YOU'RE THE SNORTER!"

Apparently, she was a blogger, AND I'm famous, as the poor woman recognized me (yes, at midnight, in the middle of NYC!) from having attended an event, earlier in the day, where Robyn outed me...for my snort.

Thanks, Robyn! Aaaanyway, the injured blogger and I were now connected (6 degrees from snort) aaaaand, bet you didn't know I had super powers, either, huh!?!?

"We need some ice, right now, please?"

Then, BusyMom's nursing skillz began to show (again!) and the gravity of the blogger's injuries became REAL clear to me (i.e. panic set in) so, I ran into the deli, with 2 other men, running...close behind.

"I NEED HELP!"

Aaaand, it never dawned on me, until MUCH later: 1 panic-stricken woman runs into deli (+) 2 men chasing her (+) it's nearly 1 in the morning = the perfect equation 4 scaring the hell out of a New Yorker, who got stuck working the deli counter, during witching hour!

"No, please don't shoot, I mean...I NEED ICE!"

I don't know if he was reaching for a gun, or a baseball bat and it doesn't matter at this point in the story, really (snort!) because, my husband would NOT be surprised (confirmed later, to be true) if I had called to tell him that, you know, I was the one going to the hospital!

"I want Liz to come with me to the hospital!"

So, as it turns out, it looked like we WERE going to take us a little ride, in a New York City ambulance, together, after all.

Courtesy of Howie Mandel's doppelganger (is it against the law to have a good time, riding in an ambulance in NYC?) got to the hospital in one piece (seriously, NYC, your streets are worse than Jersey!) and it was NOTHING like any ER episode, I remember. Until the injured blogger's roomie showed up.

"Here's her bag, her swag and her new iPhone."

It was the glass in the swag that broke (which sounds just like a gun shot, at nearly 1 in the morning, I swear!) she also broke her arm, dislocated her elbow, tore a ligament AND well, the woman was lucky to get her iPhone back (suh-weet!) just sayin'.

"Aaaand, I spoke with her husband, already!"

Long story, short (I know, too late!) our job...she WAS done.

So, we took us a little impromptu hospital tour (we shoulda googled a map) and got ourselves good and lost!

Afraid of ending up in the morgue, with a full bladder, I found a bathroom (THANK GAWD!)

That's when BusyMom got caught on tape waiting for me in the hallway.

Escorted out by security.

Bad moms, bad moms.

The End!

Morale of the Story: Bloggers helping other bloggers, that's how we roll (i.e. alternate title: Getting yourself involved in crap like this can get your ass SHOT!)

Deciding to throw caution to the wind (because, we're rebelious like that) we had dinner together, the following night, too (since, you know, Tennessee and New Jersey are REAL close and all) and it was good.

Until, someone's car backfired, or something and both BusyMom and I instinctively ducked...for cover!

[snort]

Only in New York City, kids, and if you're trying to decide whether or not to attend a BlogHer conference (it's in San Diego, CA, next year, btw) don't worry...barring a family emergency (knocking on wood, until knuckles bleed) or, lack of sponsorship (DAMNIT!) SaveHer will be there!

Someone really should put that on t-shirt, right?