My favorite story about myself is, of course, one that I do not remember. Self-romanticized myths lead every great autobiography. I have had 26 years to inject my own bloated (pun! you’ll see…) self-congratulatory expectations into this story: The story of my being trained to produce poo in a potty.
It was a hot July day (not verified) in 1988 and my mom was totally pregnant (verified) when I learned that my older sister did not wear diapers.
WHY DID NO ONE TELL ME I DID NOT HAVE TO SIT IN MY OWN WET WASTE?
Immediately, I refused to wear a diaper. Refused. I wanted big girl panties and I would have NOTHING ELSE. Not even “My Little Pony: Revolt of Paradise Estate” could calm me down.
Sounds like every parent’s dream, right? No sticker chart or Tootsie Roll-lookalikes to clean out of a tiny plastic “toilet” necessary. BUT, this July day, whilst my poor mother was sick from the beautiful and miraculous pile of goo gurgling in her belly, we were all in Detroit visiting family. My mom was alone with us girls in a hotel room. It was hot. We were far away from home. She was dealing with 24-hour morning sickness.
“Please, Jackie, just wear the diaper now and I’ll buy you big girl panties when we go home,” she said as she clung to the trunk of the hotel toilet regurgitating lunchtime’s Chi-Chi’s treat.
Does man willingly submit to serfdom when he learns means of attainable self-reliance?! Does man willingly eat salsa when free queso is available?! Does man willingly watch “Nashville” when he knows anything else is on TV?!
Nay, MOTHER!
Mom shoved us girls in the car and off we went to buy me some stupid cotton underpants. She threatened severe corporeal punishment on my little white bootay if said cotton underpants got any sort of excrement upon them. They did not. And that was it. I was potty trained.
I love that story because it is indicative how stubborn I am, which has mostly been a blessing when applied to things like school, work and cyber stalking people I find attractive. I’m a pretty determined person.
Or perhaps I just don’t like sitting in my own pee. I guess we will never know.
So… that’s a little bit about me. Welcome to my blog. I plan to reference poop a lot less in future posts… my apologies if that’s what brought you here in the first place.
If what brought you here was the headline, here are my favorite songs with my name in them. Jackie proves to be a go-to stubborn character in songwriting as well. Or an adventurous drug-consuming character, also fans of cotton undies.
Come back soon!
“Jackie Blue,” by Ozark Mountain Daredevils
This song was recorded on a farm. I, too, was “recorded” on a farm. Dairy.
“Judy is a Punk,” by the Ramones
To be clear, Jackie is a punk and Judy is a runt. It’s Judy’s turn to cry.
“Walk on the Wild Side,” by Lou Reed
Hey babe, take a walk on the wild side and name your kid Jackie.
Being said mom, I will verify that the gist of the above article is TOTALLY true. I could embellish even further, but my competent, writer daughter can take care of that.
For further “poo” stories, ask her about pushing an uncooperative feeder calf out of a barn!!
Mama Mantey
I never knew there were SO many songs with our name in them!!! I want them all played at my wake! I know sounds a little weird. So listen to Little Jackie wants to Be a Star-Lisa Lisa and Cult Jam, it’s sweet. Also Jackie-Placebo, MTV unplugged, makes me cry. Jackie Don’t Go-Survivor, makes me feel loved:) Thanks for making me look up Jackie songs!
As a Jackie myself, I suggest you listen to Sugarplum Fairy’s Sweet Jackie and my other fave, Linda Perry’s Jackie.
How about Heartbeat City by the Cars??
what about “god bless the girl” david bowie, “heartbeat city” by the cars and “puff the magic dragon” peter paul and mary
When I was mmm 9 I believe, Aerosmith came out with Love in an elevator. They sing “Jackie’s in the elevator, lingerie second floor, she said can I see you later, and love you just a little more?”
I loved that song, and thus began my obsession with the band. I’ve seen them 5, times, met them, in the fan club, their wings logo was even my first tattoo in my 20s.
Granted, at 9 I had no idea the meaning of the song!
I never knew there were SO many songs with our name in them!!! I want them all played at my wake! I know sounds a little weird. So listen to Little Jackie wants to Be a Star-Lisa Lisa and Cult Jam, it’s sweet. Also Jackie-Placebo, MTV unplugged, makes me cry. Jackie Don’t Go-Survivor, makes me feel loved:) Thanks for making me look up Jackie songs!