Jack had fallen asleep and the house was peaceful at last. I sneaked back to the bedroom and slipped into a cool little night-gown. Then off to the kitchen to get a much deserved “Mommy drink”. My whole body was sore from the kids; holding, rocking and feeding Jack, carting Laurie around in the wagon several times around the block, playing the Kinect with Tommy till my legs turned to mush.
I was exhausted not only from the kids, but from all the regular Mommy stuff that, when I took this job, I never thought would be so demanding. Folding laundry, for instance. My husband has 7000 pairs of white socks that all look the same, but are all just a tiny bit different so matching them up is a bitch. And my son keeps sneaking turtle necks into his dirty clothes pile. I KNOW YOU HAVEN’T WORN THIS! PUT IT AWAY!
Paying bills? Once upon a time I’d write a few checks, lick a few stamps, and bam. Done-zo! Now I still lick stamps, but then I have to remember which bills I can actually pay online and others have to be dropped off at the place and some places only take payment between 6am-630am and some places have long-ass lines if you show up after 9am or before noon. And then there’s those assholes who only accept cash.
“Straightening Up” as they call it…forget about it. Listening to super happy fuzzy cartoon characters singing super happy educational songs while I pick up those same super happy fuzzy cartoon characters in toy-form sucks every ounce of energy out of my body.
Then the phone rings, “Hi, this is Daven Fuckypants and I’d like to talk to you about issue 2”
“Mrs. Grease the officers at unit 239 would sure be happy if you could donate $100 to help blah blah blah”
“Good morning, Rochelle. You’ve been randomly selected to participate in survey about dog food. It should only take about 45 minutes. Tell me, how is your pet currently reacting to his food ? Reacting happy. Reacting Sad. Reacting angry. Or reacting suicidal?”
“This call is making ME suicidal!”
I no sooner hang up the phone when the door bell rings. “Would you like to talk about God?”
Not with you.
“Do you need a new vacuum?”
I don’t use the one I got!
“Wanna buy a candy bar to support the soccer team?”
Aren’t you the little fuck who tramples on my flowers on your way to the bus stop? Meh, screw it. Give me some chocolate.
And, not to harp on my kids, but Jeez, they’re soul suckers! I mean, Tommy’s been at school for 3 days now, and already he’s fighting me about having to wake up, fighting about breakfast, what he wears, what I pack for lunch, where his shoes are, why his sister is drinking out of ‘his’ cup, now he has a headache, a cold, the flu, cancer. Meanwhile, Jack is screaming cause he’s hungry, he’s wet, he’s tired, he wants walked around. And Laurie picks these exact moments to get in to everything. “Why did you color on the wall?!”
“Why did you give the dog your sausages?”
“Why are you naked???”
BECAUSE IS NOT AN ANSWER!
And when it’s not those things, it’s, “TOMMY HIT ME!”
“LAURIE BIT ME!”
“TOMMY SAID I WAS NOT PRETTY!”
“LAURIE SAID SHE HATES ME!”
Or “Mom wanna color?”
“Mom, wanna play Legos?”
“Mom push me on the swing.”
“Mom let’s make smoothies.”
“Mom, I know I can’t talk yet, but you should know, my first word is going to be DAD.”
I remind myself, this is the life I’ve chosen…as I take a nice long sip of whatever alcohol I happened to pour into my plastic Cat and the Hat tumbler. It could be Vodka. It could Children’s Tylenol. The world is my oyster!
Actually, it’s really not too bad. I can handle the madness. And I know at the end of the night it will all be worth it once I get everyone to bed. Like tonight. Jack has fallen asleep and the house is peaceful at last. I sneak back to the bedroom and slip into a cool little night-gown. Then off to the kitchen to get a much deserved “Mommy drink”. My husband wraps his arms around my waist and nuzzles my neck, “I love you.”
“Why?” I can’t help but ask.
I consider whopping him upside the head, but I don’t. Just because.
Thanks for reading!