This Full House

Into the Woods

2009-11-07T11:55:17-05:00

Over the river and thru the woods,

Oh, how the wind does blow!

It stings the toes and bites the nose,

As over crispy ground we go.

Sometimes, you just have to grab an extra blanket, maybe even a fishing pole, or two, hop into the car, drive to where the sun sets deep into quiet shades of autumn and leave the rest of the world behind.

Yes, yesterday was one of those days.

WORDLESS WEDNESDAY: Times When You Just Can't See Your Desk for ALL the Unfolded Laundry!

2009-11-04T09:46:51-05:00

Laundry...FOLD THYSELF!

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All I Want for Christmas

2009-11-02T14:04:42-05:00

In case you're wondering whatever happened to Monday Mornings the Doofus-Dawg?

He's lost in a pile of laundry.

Aaaaanway, I was supposed to start my "real job" today (YAY!) but. they offered to give me an increase to 4 hours, 3 times per week and I took it (more milk money, double-YAY!) but, I don't start until next week (BOO!) and I've got somethin' else to show you.

[grin]

So, feel free to grab a cup of cawfee, or whatever, I'll wait!

Not So SAHM, Anymore

2009-10-30T09:01:04-04:00

Mom, but what BIG ARMS you have -- why, yes, the better to hug you with, my dear!

For years (or, as long as this blog has existed...anyways) I have considered the phrase, "Stay-at-Home-Mom" an oxymoron, like:

The Great Depression - to which, my in-laws insist that it was, in fact, you know, not so great.
Dry lake - although, I don't seem to have an immediate problem with dry wine.
Original copy - as opposed to, a copied original, I think.
Clearly misunderstood - is one of my husband's favorite phrases, actually (he's married to me, I know, SHUDUP!)

Makes no sense, right? Sort of like a house wife. What is she, once she leaves the house; does she become a part-time wife; if she drives a car, is she cheating on the house; does anyone else spend way too much time thinking about stupid stuff, like this?

Or, the bigger question (in my mind) does it really matter?

"What do you mean, you got a job?"

Apparently, to some of my children, it really does.

"Who's gonna stay at home, with us?"

Yes, I got a job...well, if you consider working 2 1/2 hours, 3 times a week, a job, I mean...but, it DOES mean actually leaving the house and, you know, getting paid!

"I will, silly."

Once again, I was clearly misunderstood.

"Phew, I thought you said you got a job?"

See what I mean?

"Yes, I start next week!"

I swear, you could hear all 4 of their gorgeous little minds, slam on their imaginary brakes and, truth be told, I was feeling a little guilty about finding amusement in their mass confusion.

"GAH...but, you said...d'oh, I don't get!"

I mean, it should be easy enough to explain:

Yes, mommy got a job.
No, not like daddy's.
Yes, I will be getting paid.
No, I will not have any vacation, or sick days.
Yes, I have to get dressed and leave the house.
No, I will not be home for soccer practice, or girl scouts.
Yes, I will be home for dinner, or when you're home sick, from school.
No, you can't come with me.
Yes, it's a real job.

Then, there's the whole SAHM thing:

Yes, I will be home, during the day, mostly.
No, I can't go to work in my pajamas.
Yes, I will be getting paid, on time and FOR REAL!
No, it STILL won't get us to Disney...yet.
Yes, I still get to keep my day job, mostly.
No, I don't know how I will find the time, either.
Yes, I am very excited.
No, I don't feel guilty.
Yes, I feel guilt.

Clearly, I'm unclear about my feelings.

Perhaps it's time for a new acronym -- besides SAHMMA, you know, the one I created, yesterday, I mean -- something that describes, rather than defines, a mother's right to decide what works best for her, and/or her family.

Either way, IMHO -- in my humble opinion -- no, it really doesn't matter.

The job?

I don't know how to describe it, other than, it involves hanging out with a bunch of sweaty women and trying, real hard, not to break any really expensive exercise equipment.

"No, seriously, mom, you, a fitness instructor?"

Sort of.

[pause for laughter]

I start next week!

It's Not the Years, HONEY - It's the Mileage!

2009-10-28T14:37:27-04:00

Yeah, well, YOU shut up and drive!

I have ALWAYS thought the acronym SAHM (stay-at-home-mom) to be an oxymoron. Yes, I have kids. Yes, I am home (right now) and yes, my kids are also in school (full-time) but, I will be leaving my house (in about 30 minutes) to bring kids back home and NOT all of them happen to be mine, either.

I am in charge of "the after school" portion of the carpool.

[waves to Carpooling Mom, she reads my blog]

You see, Carpooling Mom does "the morning run," and I, well, get an extra 25 minutes to kiss my husband (he wishes!) or, pour another cup of coffee (or, 20) before heading out into suburban hell (a.k.a. my youngest daughter's elementary school!)

Unless it's raining.

"UGH!"

Or, one of my two oldest daughters are running late.

"Who turned off the alarm, again?"

Mostly, my 16 year-old.

"Yes, I'll drive you to school."

This morning, it was raining, my 16 year-old was running late (AGAIN!) AND, since my husband's car died, last week (the funeral is this weekend) my SIL was gracious enough to lend Garth [not his real name] hers (thanks sis!) but, it died this morning (sorry sis!) and, well, I've created a new acronym, just for the occasion!

"Yes, I'll drive you to work."

S.A.H.M.M.A. (stay-at-home-mom-my-ass) if anyone needs me, I'll be on the road, driving and flipping someone off, no doubt!

"Speed up, SPEED up, SPEED UP OR YOU'LL NEVER GET PASSED THAT TRUCK!!!"

Mostly, my husband......to be continued.

Monday Morning With Doofus-Dawg: Mama Always DID Like Me Best!

2009-10-26T11:09:33-04:00

D'oh, Ah loves it when Mama does that...

Mah moms is not heres, right now and...d'oh...excuse me a minute, puh-leeze.

BARK-BARK-WOOF-BARKITY-WOOF-WOOF!

D'oh, sorry 'bout that. Ah hates squirrels. Don't yous? Anyways. Mah moms is not heres, I think and...um...d'oh yeah...ah remembers now.

[heavy sigh]

Ah loves that pit-cher of me...you know...d'oh, Doofus-Dawg and Mama.

[blank stare]

D'oh, yeah, ah remembers, now...hers is mah mom's...you know...dad and ...d'oh...that's naught right, either...'cause, everybodies knows dads are lots hairy and gots long ears, like me.

SNORT!

D'oh...aaaaaanyways...so, mah moms wuz out visitin' with her moms and dads on Sundays...uh...ah think it was yesterdays...d'oh...aaaaaanyhow...hers done took the girls someplace and ah spendid the day...all alones...with mah dads and the boy!

BARK-BARK-WOOF-BARKITY-WOOF-WOOF

Boys rawk, for realz!

[heavy sigh]

Aaaaanyways, mah moms gots home real late, like it was dark and times to goes to sleeps kinda late, for realz.

AH-WHOO!

Mah moms was soooooo tired, hers beated up dads...uh...do'h, that's naught right, either...d'oh, ah know...dad said hers was all beated up.

SNIFF-SNIFF-SCRATCH-SCRATCH!

Moms was upset and ah thinks hers looks awful sad, for realz.

[blank stare]

Do'h, but ah cants understands a word hers and dads spitted up....d'oh, that's naught right, either...they talkdid some see-ree-us stuff bouts Mama and Papa...oh, and mah other favorite human, Uncle Bud and...d'oh...ah just cants seem to make mah moms feels happy, anymores.

[heavy sigh]

D'oh yeah, ah remember now...um...ah gots to tell yous that hers cants comes out to plays, no mores...d'oh...that's naught right, either...'cause, everybodies knows mah moms likes yous, best.

GRRRRRRRRRR

Buuuut, ah knows whats best for hers and, well, hers needs somebodies to throw her a bone, or somethin', is all.

SNIFF-SNIFF-SCRATCH-SCRATCH!

Soooooo, seein as ah ates mine...d'oh...bone, ah mean...ah am goins to chase everybodies away from mah house!

BARK-BARK-WOOF-BARKITY-WOOF-WOOF

Things lots hairy, wif long ears and stupid squirrels, ah mean.

GRRRRRRRRRR

D'oh, oh yah, and have nice Monday...'cause...shee-yah..you can tell it Doofus-Dawg said so.

BARK-BARK-WOOF-BARKITY-WOOF-WOOF

You're welcome!

The Future Looks Bleak, I Gotta Wear Spades!

2009-10-23T10:00:00-04:00

Alexey Venetsianov. Cartomancy. 1842. Oil on canvas. The Russian Museum, St. Petersburg, Russia. (image source)

I remember the first time I got "my cards read," I was only 13 (my middle girl's age) and it freaked me out, big time.

Her name was Charlotte and she practiced "cartomancy," which sounds an awful lot like "gastromancy," but has nothing to do with being romantically involved with someone who works for the gas company -- although, considering today's economy, it certainly would be a perk -- she was, however, no "charlatan."

"You will marry a man, with 5 letters in his name and you will have 4 children."

See?

"Your brother will have a career in the Army and marry the Colonel's daughter."

HAH! Actually, I think her father was a Sargent, or something!

"You and your children will live a long and happy life."

Perhaps it's because of my Hungarian upbringing.

"You will find that you too have a special gift."

Gosh, but my grandmother could tell wickedly scary ghost stories from the old country -- but, I personally have seen some really wierd stuff to believe that there are many people who are indeed born with "special gifts."

[shiver]

Like seeing far ahead into the future and helping others find their path(s) in life.

"Use it wisely!"

I am NOT one of those people.

"Hey Mom, have you ever heard of Tarot cards?"

Now, here's the thing. I could say this:

"Why yes, yes I have, in fact, I have a pack upstairs, in my lingerie drawer, right now!"

Besides the fact that, you know, after 4 kids and nearly 20 years of marriage, sadly, there's just not much use for sexy lingerie, anymore.

(shutup, Mominatrix!)

"Wanna see?"

Or, I could say this:

"Why yes, in fact, a bunch of us moms went to a psychic party, but she wasn't as good as the guy I saw a few years ago, who told me that one of my children will inherit my grandmother's gift."

Although, I can totally understand some people's need to feel as if there were some sort of pre-determined road ahead and that, somehow, someone, or something would be able to, you know, give them a heads up, about it, or something.

"Yes, yes, your children WILL live a long and happy life."

[knocks on wood until knuckles bleed]

I'm just not quite sure I want to expose my kids to, for lack of a better term, anything that ends in "mancy."

"Mom, are you listening to me?"

My special gift?

"Um...so, where did YOU hear about Tarot Cards?"

I am an expert, however, in the art of changing "the subject."

"I saw you looking through some books at Barnes & Noble, the other night."

Stealth parenting?

"Um...so, you want to go to the book store tonight?"

Not so much.

"Okay, I get it, something about your childhood and you just don't know how to talk about it, right now, right?"

See?

"Yes, yes, I would LOVE to go to the book store!"

Aaaaand, it seems to run in the family.

"Somehow, I knew that you would!"

(shutup Charlotte!)

Nearly Wordless Wednesday: You've Been Ghosted - The Puking Pumpkin Starts Here!

2009-10-21T08:49:19-04:00

Let's play!

It's that time of year, again -- we "ghosted" our neighbors, last night -- so, "Pass the puking pumpkin, please!"

[sound of crickets chirping]

What, with all the [ahem] negativity flying around our lovely little community, lately (seriously, NOT fun) I think it's about time we tapped into our inner-child and go and ghost someone!

Positively, YES!

The rules are easy:

(1) It's your turn to "ghost" three other bloggers -- perhaps, somewhere you haven't commented, in a while, or a blog you've NEVER commented on before and is new to our blogging community.

(2) Stop by their blogs and leave a comment on their latest post saying:

"You've Just Been Ghosted -- Come Over and Grab A Puking Pumpkin!"

(3) Copy and paste the puking pumpkin somewhere on your blog (either in a post or on your sidebar, perhaps) so that everyone can see that you have been "ghosted" and will NOT "ghost" you again. This will also let you know who you can "ghost."

It will be fun to see how many "puking pumpkins" appear by Halloween...um...which is, like, next week and NO, my kids don't have their costumes...YET!

It's how we roll.

Aaaaanyway, feel free to join in (anytime) I'll start - my mother, punched your mother right in the nose, what color blood...no, wait...that's not right - I'm going over to ghost 3 bloggers:

Melisa (not a typo, she only has one "s") because, she Skyped me before a shower and I slipped her the tongue (don't ask, go see!)

Amber (as if she had the time, or needs another freakin' pumpkin, I mean) because, her whole house is sick and she needs a warm fuzzy!

Mrs. Schmitty (say that real fast, five times, I double-dog dare you) because, she's gone over to the darkside and is working with the PTA (actually, she started a pretty awesome program I wish we had at our schools) and she could probably use a puking pumpkin, right about now!

CODE FOR THE PUKING PUMPKIN:

Don't have the time - no worries - at least, I've got a pumpkin up, somewhere, since, we never DID get the time to go and, you know, get one!

[hangs head low]

So, do you know anyone who could use a puking pumpkin?

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Monday Morning With Doofus-Dawg: Ah Ate an Apple and Ah Liked It!

2009-10-19T12:01:22-04:00

D'oh, good mornin'...welcome to the dawg house.

Mah mom is not heres, right now and...d'oh...excuse me a minute, puh-leeze.

BARK-BARK-WOOF-BARKITY-WOOF-WOOF!

D'oh, sorry 'bout that. Ah hates some peoples, sometimes. Don't yous? Anyways. Mah mom is not heres, I think and...um...d'oh yeah...ah remembers now.

[heavy sigh]

Er...rum...ah...nuh...ah's in troubles, again.

[blank stare]

D'oh, yeah, ah remembers, now...ah tried to eat the garbage man...d'oh...that's naught right, either...'cause, everybody knows peoples tastes funny.

SNORT!

D'oh, ah tried to eat the garbage, again...[sneeze]...but, mah mom made it so ah can'ts git to it, anymores.

AH-WHOO!

Stupid child locks -- ifs ah only had thumbs.

SNORT!

D'oh...aaaaaanyways...so, when theys wuz out visitin' with Mama and Papa, yesterdays...uh...ah think it was yesterdays...d'oh...aaaaaanyhow...ah was mad theys left me home...all alones...with the stupid catz...AGAIN!.

BARK-BARK-WOOF-BARKITY-WOOF-WOOF

Catz are mean, for realz!

[heavy sigh]

Sooooo, ah ate one of them thar apples mom keeps on the dinin' room tables and, you knows, ahs liked it!

AH-WHOO!

For realz. Theys call it granny fanny...do'h, that's naught right, either...wil smith, maybe...d'oh, ah know...it wuz one of them thar granny smiths and ah like it, lots!

[burp]

Excuse me, puh-leeze.

[pfff-ffft]

D'oh, sorry 'bout that. Ah hates it when apples do that. Don't yous?

SNIFF-SNIFF-SCRATCH-SCRATCH!

Mah mom asked me tell somebody called Marvin...d'oh...that's naught right, either...d'oh, I remember now.

[blank stare]

Carmen...YAH-YAH!...mah mom made a cake...wif apples in it...and said yous wanted some...'cawse yous gots lots of apples at yous house, too...do'h, but ah can'ts come over...right now.

BARK-BARK-WOOF-BARKITY-WOOF-WOOF

Ah gots to keep the stupid peoples away from mah house...d'oh...but, mah mom said you's can haz her peas...do'oh...that's naught right, either...hers said yous can make mom's apple spice cake...and eats it, too!

Here yous goes:

Mom's Apple Spice Cake (Serves 12)

Ingredients:

1 cup salad oil
3 eggs
1 tsp. salt
1 tsp. baking soda
1 tsp. cinnamon
1 tsp. vanilla
1 1/2 cups brown sugar
2 cups flour
4 apples sliced thin
1/2 cup raisins
1/4 tsp. nutmeg

Topping:

1/2 cup flour
1/2 cup brown sugar
1/4 cup butter

Mix all ingredients; pour into greased and floured tube pan (no bundt pans - will not cook fully, trust me!)
Combine topping ingredients & sprinkle on top of batter.
Bake at 375 degrees for 55-60 minutes.
Serve with whipped cream, if you like -- ENJOYS!

D'oh, oh yah, and haz a nice Monday...'cawse...shee-yah..you can tell it Doofus-Dawg said so.

BARK-BARK-WOOF-BARKITY-WOOF-WOOF

You're welcome!

Completely Honest

2009-10-15T09:48:27-04:00

My friend and fellow Jersey girl Cartoon Goddess has challenged me to be completely honest and, well, contrary to everything I have ever been taught (most especially, by Billy Joel) honesty is NOT the hardest part.

Saying 10 honest things about me, that you guys, you know, don't already know?

After 6 years of blogging my deepest, darkest secrets (okay, so, except maybe mine is mostly about laundry and a bit more, I dunno, dark grayish) there really isn't much left to tell...or, is there?

So, here it goes, 10 things that I have never, EVER told anyone, except maybe my husband, Garth [not his real name] but, he's not talking to me, at the moment, so, you know...

I canNOT, for the life of me, remember a blessed thing, anymore; like, names of people I have just met a few minutes ago, hollering for the wrong kid (again) and thinking Tuesday is really Monday; however, when it comes to conversations, I have a photographic, or eidetic memory and...um...what was I saying, again?

Although I have been blessed with many kind and gentle friends, I have always preferred the company of men. Woman are sort of hard to be around, sometimes, you know?

I have wicked deja vu, all the time -- coupled with the fact that I have an eidetic memory -- so, maybe now you will better understand why I'm always walking around, looking confused, all the time, right?

I dream in color and, if I happen to wake up, while in the middle of one, I can go back to sleep and finish a dream.

Unfortunately, that last one, holds true for nightmares, too.

I can remember my kindergarten teacher's name (Mrs. Rivers) but, don't recall any of my high school teachers...oh, wait...Mr. Nelson, Mrs. Reilly, Mr. Costello...never mind.

Okay, more than halfway done, now and, buckle up, 'cawse I'm going for broke:

I have a terrible fear of being in a basement and/or attic, having been locked in both, as a child (no, not by my parents and, yes, accidentally on purpose) which, is pretty much the reason why we don't have a basement, or attic.

My step-grandfather is the reason why my children will never, ever experience abuse, by my hand, or any other, not while I'm alive, DAMMIT.

When he died, my anger burned with him.

Honestly, this is the first time I have ever said as much, out loud and DAYUM it feels SO GOOD!

Phew. Honest, much? Now, I'm supposed to tag 7 people and, well, here we go:

1. Busy Mom was one of the first people I ever read (sounds weird, right?) today, I am thankful to call her friend!

2. Jenn from Mommy Needs Coffee (see above) and for her ability to make me stop, think and go, "What?"

3. Mrs. Flinger is a fraking genius, that is all.

4. GraceD, for teaching me (and many more women) how to blog with integrity, way before it was cool, even.

5. SocalMom, for making me wish that I lived on the west coast, sort of.

6. Real Men Drive Minivans, 'cause he's a blogging dad, who I had the pleasure of recently meeting (IRL) and makes me feel all, like, YAH MAN! Minivans ARE cool!

7. Headless Mom, see number 5 above.

If you feel so inclined, run with it, my friends. If not, no worries, you already know, I'm easy. Well, maybe NOT so much P.J. -- I mean, we just met!