#12 Part 1

Dear Diary,

Woe is the life of a collegestudentmotherwife. I have successfully pulled off all procrastination maneuvers allowable in a day. Such as, watching the Today Show, eating a late breakfast, having another cup of coffee, eating second breakfast/early lunch, followed by full lunch, then watching two trashy television shows to include the 6th season of “Sister Wives” and “Superstore”. One of those I’m ashamed to admit that I watched. I’ll let you guess which one it is.

I also finished my husband’s Valentine’s Day gift, much earlier than expected, but that is due to the fact that I’m trying to avoid completing my mid-term paper. I also had the pest control company come in to spray for spiders and place mouse traps. Truth be told, I found one spider in the bathroom, which I scared to death when I screamed “AH! SPIDER!”, and the mouse was found by my husband, dead, a couple of months ago. However, one spider in the bathroom is one too many, even if my shrills caused its legs to shrivel up inside of its body.

I even worked out as another procrastination tactic.


Dear Diary,

My husband and I have recently implemented a money-based reward system for our children based on their ability to complete chores on a daily and weekly basis. Most individuals call this “allowance”. I call this investing in quality assurance.

The female native has really taken a liking to this newly implemented system, most specifically her task of dusting the downstairs portion of the house. The male native is responsible for the upstairs, though typically the novelty wears off once he has dusted his room. A new strategy will be implemented to include him dusting his room last.

Nonetheless, the female native, whom I consider to be the alpha of the two “children”, has discovered the citrusy glory that is Pledge. I believe its scent to be intoxicating to children, as quickly every surface of our house was smothered in its cream-like consistency.

I took the opportunity to teach her about being conservative, though she did not heed my lesson in “a little goes a long way”.

When she Pledged the television screen, I tried to teach her about the surfaces of which Pledge can be acceptably used. Despite my husband’s cries, I praised her on her willingness to help out.

After she was done with the living room, she moved onto the kitchen. To include the trash receptacle, which I thought to be a rather crafty use of Pledge, as it really did make the stainless steel can shine like it was new. I also had the realization that perhaps I am not fully aware of all the surfaces Pledge can be used on. I really must take time to read the directions on the bottle.

She then moved on to Pledging the linoleum by the trash can….and then the linoleum by the back door. I let her, since she seemed so eager. After all, I dare not stop her Cinderella-like work ethic. However, as soon as my husband when slip-sliding across the kitchen, I was promptly reminded that it is in Pledge’s nature to make everything shiny, and smooth….and slick.

Since Saturday, each of our family members have taken turns grasping on to any non-moving object when traipsing through the kitchen or letting the canine family members in the backyard to “do their business”.

Apparently, I let the canine family members into the back yard so infrequently that I forget each time of my daughter’s fond interest in earning money until I throw my arms into the air in an effort to catch my balance…. sometimes, not quite sticking the landing.


Shall I Rub Some Dirt on the Floor to Get Rid of the Pledge?, Jennifer


Dear Diary,

I have a horrible habit of being a bad gift giver….especially when it comes to my dear, sweet husband. On more than one occasion I have said to him, “I’m going to make your gift!”. Yet, sadly, I never come through. I reside to the fact that Amazon Prime is my best friend. However, I am making a promise to myself that I will NOT use Amazon Prime for it’s super speedy and convenient 2-day shipping, and I will complete my husband’s hand made Valentine’s gift…….


I wouldn’t know what to buy him anyway, Jennifer


Dear Diary,

This blustery night reminds me of the several times I drove down the highway in the rental minivan.

Given its size, it had a surprisingly keen ability of catching a cross wind, not entirely unlike a sail boat. Though I have never gone sailing and have no prior knowledge of what it takes to sail a boat, I can only imagine that what I experienced in the minivan is what a sailor experiences when crossing the choppy waters of the ocean.

That being said, hold on to your hats everyone!


Let’s go fly a kite, Jennifer


Dear Diary,

This somewhat frigid weather has me reminiscing about the days of yore (last week) when I was able to coolly cruise through town with the minivan’s windows rolled partially down.

The tepid breeze blowing just above my head so as not to mess up my hair, but enough to feel the air circulating around me…..blowing Cheez-It and graham cracker crumbs into my eyes.

Crumbs aside, I have yet to keep any owned vehicle cleaner than I kept that minivan. My motivation of which was fear of forgetting and losing something important in the abyss that is typical of cars that I own.

We all know that “something important” would be Morty.


Waiting for Warmer Temperatures Jennifer


Dearest Minivan,

While I won’t miss your lack of modern conveniences, such as Bluetooth capabilities and a back-up camera, I will miss the large, Shrek-like shadow you cast on the road in front of me as I drove away from the sunrise after dropping my children off at school.

It reminded me that your side view mirrors were exceptionally large for a relatively small minivan, when compared to an Econoline, which your mirrors may have been better suited for.

Mirrors aside, I assumed that your lack of features was due in part to your age. Perhaps, you were a few years old. Perhaps, you’d “been around the block” several times.

However, as I turned in your keys at the Enterprise counter, I glanced at the label on the plastic key fob announcing loudly of the replacement fee should I lose a key, that you were a 2015 model.

Two-thousand fifteen….you once again, have let me down. Yet, you helped me realize that there is indeed a more basic model than the basic model and it is called “Rental Quality”.


Glad to be back in my own vehicle Jennifer


Dear Diary,

Our family may be down one canine member if the hole in the fence does not get repaired soon. The oldest canine member escaped again, thankfully it was during daylight hours. Until today, I had thought he was Houdini himself, as I could not find where this mutt was escaping from. Upon further investigation by my smart and observational friend Kelli, it was noticed that he was slipping underneath a loose part of the fence. As per usual, the canine miscreant did not obey my commands of “Want a cookie?!”, “Let’s go on a walk!”, “How about a ride in the minivan? Look, I have your leash!”. After piercing my soul with his eyes of disobedience, as if he were saying, “I will never obey you”, he willingly returned and proceeded to garner the attention of my observational friend….. just by her presence in my driveway.

Alas, I will call the housing authorities to rectify this shoddy fence situation immediately. Until then, the canine family member will have supervised toileting privileges. | consider this to be an absurd waste of my time, as I have spent the last 5.5 years observing the toileting habits of my own two human natives.


“I said wash your hands!” Jennifer


Dear Diary,

This is my last day with the rental minivan. I am only saddened by this fact as I feel that I have finally been accepted into the minivan tribe. Mothers drive by and smile at me while I confusingly figure out where the windshield wipers are and how to use them. Instead, I accidentally shine my high beams into their faces. Their smiles could be out of pity or the extreme amount of entertainment they must be experiencing in their “fully loaded” models. Whereas, in a previous entry, I mentioned the supreme lack of what I consider to be modern conveniences that accompany my rental minivan.

While picking up the oldest of two natives and while thinking of myself to be thoroughly proficient in the use of the minivan “features” (bar the windshield wipers), I was quickly humbled by a safety feature. Though, in theory, I understand why the side doors do not open when in the vehicle is in “drive”, I feel that when the brake is being pressed, the doors should open. After all, how am I to tell the natives to “tuck and roll” during drop-off? I digress….

In the midst of my struggle to press the brake and push the side door “open” button, a teacher took pity upon my cries of “I’m so sorry”, “I don’t know why the door isn’t opening”, “It’s a rental”, “I’m still getting used to it” to ever so politely ask, “Is the van in park?”…….I look, “No ma’am, it is not”. “It has to be in park for you to be able to open the door”…..


Slight Confused, but Mostly Frustrated Jennifer


Dear Diary,

The youngest of the two canine family members has broken my trust. He took advantage of my distraction while tidying the house and decided to use my rug as dental floss. He has since been exiled to his crate, despite his valiant efforts to stop his imprisonment. He is now growling in an attempt to intimidate me. These efforts are also valiant, yet ineffective. Lest he forget, I am a mother. I am not intimidated by small creatures and I have perfected the skill of “tuning out”.


The Alpha, Jennifer


Dear Diary,

The natives have started to ignore my existence. Our canine family member managed to escape, probably due to low morale. I went off into the dark night of our back yard to find him on the hill. I lured him with promises of snacks and walks. Alas, he also ignored that I exist and reluctantly came back on his own accord. The natives did not notice my absence, nor the canine family member’s absence. They were entranced by some children’s television show featuring a talking train that often finds himself in difficult situations. They call it “Chuggington”. I must learn how to wield this sorcery so that the natives will acknowledge me once again.


I’m still here, Jennifer