So, I’ve had some people ask why the name of my blog is Jessica’s Exotic and Coveted Life. “Where did you come up with that?” they ask, telling me they do not find me exotic whatsoever. I’m assuming they do not find me exotic because I’m not ethnic. Anyway, two and a half years ago I wrote this blog (I have a crap ton of them on myspace, like hundreds of them. I just don’t use myspace anymore.) This was pretty much a normal day for me back then and because the day I wrote this blog, I did not feel exotic or coveted, I decided to name the blog the opposite of how I felt. So that’s where I got the name for my blog, and the following is all about the day I decided to write a blog called “Jessica’s Exotic and Coveted Life:”
Dec 18, 2008
I could pretty much tell what kind of day it was going to be while I was making breakfast. I was scrambling eggs, blabbing on the phone, and looked over to see Caleb had broken every single egg in the carton, and was happily stomping in the gooey mess. I should have known better than to leave the eggs on the table, I know, but I wasn't thinking. I turned the heat on my eggs way down and got to work picking up the shells that were crushed to smithereens, and sopping up the gooey crap. Then I noticed that I had burned the eggs and gave the kids cereal instead. Instant protests from Makayla.
"You said you were going to make us EGGS!" she screamed, and hurled a spoonful of cereal against the wall. She learned this habit of food throwing from her brother. I made her clean it up and told her she could have cereal or nothing. She chose cereal. I spent the rest of the morning trying to transform the disgusting mess that is my house into more of an "organized chaos" sort of environment. It didn't work. I went to the bathroom to figure out why Makayla's toilet wouldn't flush, and while I was trying to pull out a McDonald's pony from deep inside the hole, I heard a crash. A big one. Followed by screams. I ran to the living room and saw that Caleb had once again pulled the Christmas tree on top of himself, and he was screaming while Makayla was trying to pull him out by his legs.
"I'll save you!" she screamed as she yanked on him. He just kicked her away though, and withered around under the tree like a giant slug. I pushed the tree back up, and Caleb instantly got to work stomping on what was left of my glass bulbs and busting the garland to shreds. I took him to the playroom and shut him in, since there's nothing he can hurt himself on in there, and vacuumed up the shattered glass and threw away the ruined garland. While I was doing that, Makayla was in my room, pulling plastic bins out from under my bed, and dumping them upside down. I went in there, and there were papers and pictures and receipts all over the place. She had also emptied out both mine and Clint's nightstand drawers, and was munching on my stash of cough drops. I tried to get to work cleaning that up, but became suspicious because Caleb was so quiet. I went to check on him and saw that he was standing on the toybox, diaper off, and a big wet stain on the wall. He had a tube of oil paint that he had somehow managed to hijack, and was happily transforming himself into one of the fellers from the blue man group. I just stood there wanting to scream, as I remembered the dumb pony in the toilet, the mess from the tree, the mess in my room, the mess everywhere. I started a bath, but no matter how much I washed him, he still remained blue. Fabulous. So I dried him off and dressed him and put both the kids in the living room and turned on the TV. I got to work unclogging the toilet, cleaning my room, and then attempted to clean the kitchen, but noticed that the kids had pulled all the cushions off the couch and were coloring on them with a sharpie marker.
"NOOOOOO!" I screamed and did a hurdle jump thing over the big couch. Makayla had drawn a happy little man on one couch cushion, and on the other, had drawn what she said was a cat. Caleb had black sharpie all around his mouth and nose. Makayla had given him a "tattoo" on his legs.
"What's wrong with you?" I said to Makayla. I didn't even let her answer. I marched her butt to the nose button and vowed to leave her there forever.
"I can't get anything done around here with you two wreaking havoc on everything," I said, "This house is disgusting. You guys need to learn how to behave."
They weren't even sorry. No apologies. I ended up having to let Makayla off the nose button because you can't trap a four year old in time out forever. It's just not right. I grounded her from her crayons and paint set for a couple of days. She was devastated.
"I'll NEVER color on the couch again! PLEASE don't take my stuff away!"
I ignored her so she went to her room and started pounding on the walls.
By lunch time, my back was killing me, the result from a botched epidural and two hellions trying to pass as children. As I was putting lunch on the table, I called my buddy Gayle.
"What happened at library hour today?" I asked her, since her little boy is in a different class than Makayla.
"Oh, they read two books, and colored, and made a craft, and they made ornaments with their pictures on them, and then snacks for the Christmas party," she said.
"You see," I told her, "I know I should take Makyala to library hour. The thing is, is that I just don't want to. It sounds like she'd have a lot of fun though."
"Oh, she would," Gayle agreed.
Blast. I had been hoping to hear, "Library hour was so horrible today. Cooper was out of his mind with boredom, and was so excited to leave. You should stay home today. It was the worst day of our lives."
Blasted library hour.
So, since library hour starts at three, I had to get Caleb up from his nap at 2:15, and he was pissed off about it. He usually goes down for his nap at twelve thirty and is up by two but today he decided to suck my boobs and scream until 1:30. I do not understand him. He can be begging to breastfeed so I'll pop a boob in his mouth and while he's sucking away, he still manages to shriek. When people are only seventeen months old, they are hard to understand. Both the kids threw a fit while they got dressed. They both screamed when I made them wear a coat. I couldn't find my keys. And we were late to library hour.
"I brought chocolate chip cookies for the party," I announced, as I walked into the group.
Another mom smiled at me and said, "Oh really? How funny. I brought chocolate chip cookies too."
"Yea, hilarious," I said, feeling like I was forgetting something.
"Actually," said the mom, "I think we were all supposed to bring something different. I guess since you missed last week’s group, you didn't know that."
It kind of pissed me off.
"I was stuck in the snow last week. Maybe someone could have called me since we all have each other's numbers."
"Who cares?" asked another mom as she rolled her eyes at the cookie bitch, "so they can have two cookies. They're four. Hey Jess, I guess Tori isn't coming today?"
"Blast!" I screamed. I had forgotten Tori. Her mom is a teacher at the middle school, and I take her to gymnastics and library hour with Makayla.
"I forgot to pick her up. I'll go get her….and grab something else for the party, since we're so strict on the snack rules."
I picked up Tori and we went to the store and grabbed a couple of boxes of candy canes and marshmallows.
I have a little personality trait, (or what Grandpa calls a "personality defect") that when I'm in a hurry, I expect everyone else to be in a hurry too. If I'm running late, people who walk slow, drive slow, or do anything slow, really, and I mean REALLY piss me off. As I was paying for the party goodies, the cashier talked on her phone and held a finger up to me. I tapped my foot and slapped my credit card loudly on the counter for a few seconds, and when she didn't do anything, I said, "Excuse me. Maybe your manager will check out my stuff. Where is he?"
She gave me a look and hung up her phone, rang up the groceries with the speed of a newborn, and then told me, "Oh….yea, I'm sorry. Our credit card machines don't work."
I pulled out my checkbook and had written the entire check before she said, "Oh, yea, my computer isn't taking checks right now."
"Then ring it up on a different computer," I said and threw my check at her as I grabbed my stuff and ran out. All while balancing Caleb on one hip and instructing Tori to hold onto my coat so she wouldn’t be kidnapped or hit by a car. Go supermom.
Once we were at the library again, I passed out my candycanes, and the cookie troll said, "How funny. You know, the kids were all going to get a cane from the tree at the end of the party."
I imagined how fun it would be to hurl an entire box of candycanes on her, but just said, "Cool. Now they will have two."
I went to camp out with my group of moms, the best ones in the entire library cult, and we discussed salt dough ornaments, since I had recently made some.
"We should have a party at my house for the kids this weekend, and theme it around crafts like that!" said one mom.
All the moms agreed enthusiastically while I racked my brain for an excuse as to why I couldn’t go. Couldn't find one in time. So now at 11:00am on Saturday, I'm going to a crafts playgroup. Usually, I like that sort of thing for the kids, but lately, I've been hesitant to take these monster children anywhere if I don't have to. I'm in charge of bringing glitter, glue, and yarn, by the way.
After library hour was over, and I had all the kids out by the car, I realized I had lost my keys. I was instantly surrounded by the other moms.
"Did you lock them in the car? I can have my husband come out and get them."
"Do you think maybe they're in your pocket?"
"Maybe they fell out of your purse."
"I saw Caleb playing with him when he was getting into the glue."
"YOU!" I screamed at the mom who had seen Caleb with them, "Your idea sounds good. He had them by the crafts area?"
"I'll take the kids to the reading area so they aren't in the cold while you go find your keys," said the brilliant mom.
"I could just kiss your face right now," I told her, and ran to find my keys. I couldn't find them. I searched the entire room and found them under one of the chairs. Thank God. There is nothing worse than losing your keys when you're stuck with three children and a significant other who is in North Dakota. I've lost all my spares too, so it would have been a nightmare.
After I dropped Tori off, I went to the post office to mail a package. I gave the crap to the lady and was like, "here, wrap it up, I can't do much with the baby, and if I put him down, he'll destroy everything."
She made an "I'm so sorry face," and was like, "Oh gosh, well, we're closing."
I looked at my watch. 4:31. It closes at 4:30.
"It's 4:31," I said, "surely we can go ahead and do it."
She smiled sweetly and said, "Actually it's 4:33. Come back tomorrow. I'm sorry."
I smiled back at her and thought about letting Caleb down for just a second so he could destroy some boxes but figured that would be mean. So I left. We came home, and as I got out of the car, I nearly fell when an intense pain shot up my back. Blasted epidural. I got the kids out of their seats and limped into the house. I made supper, and didn't even care as Caleb hurled his peas and carrots onto the floor. Then, I turned on cartoons and laid on the living room floor, rubbing my back. I bathed them, and wasn't in a good mood about it at all. Usually, we splash and play around, but tonight, I was like, "Look up, let me rinse. Don't stand up. Oh God, my frickin back."
I put them to bed at 7:30, and told Makayla if she got up even once, she would be in "the biggest trouble ever." I went to lie on the couch for a while before I tackled their recent messes, and within minutes, I heard her running up and down the hall. I got up, grabbed her by the arm, and led her to her room.
"If you get up again, or if you wake up your brother, I am going to spank your butt."
She got up again. And woke up her brother, who then screamed for thirty minutes. Before I went in to settle him down, I went to swat her butt, but missed because she laid down on the ground and then rolled away from me. I chased her, picked her up, but then had to put her down because it hurt my back even worse. I put my hands on my knees, trying to keep from screaming, and said, "Tomorrow is going to be the worst day of your whole life if you don't go to bed RIGHT NOW."
She went to bed. Thank God. I'm not sure how you go about making a four year old's day the worst day of their life. I calmed Caleb down. Considered running away from home. I popped a lorotab, laid on the couch, and read a magazine. After my back had gone from intense and immobilizing pain, to dull throb, I got up to clean their messes. Oh, and by the way, my housekeeper has decided since we live out in the middle of now where, and she's good at getting her car stuck in the snow, that she can no longer work for me.
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