Yes, I am aware the van is a mess. Nearly every time you get in on the weekend you make a comment about the papers everywhere, or the crumbs embedded in the carpet. It’s not that I haven’t noticed, or even that I don’t care- I do. I care that you take the car and spend a hour to detail it and scrape the mystery sticky substance from the cup holders and collect the soggy tissues from under the seat. I appreciate that so much, mainly because it means I don’t have to do it. I mean, I guess this does give you a right to make comments, but let me throw a few things out there.
Each morning we leave at the same time and you help me load the kids and all their crap into the car; backpacks, blankets, diapers and wipes, and of course, the daily report that must go back to the teacher so she knows I saw her note about my 5yo had trouble listening. today. again. I am so grateful for your help in the morning, BUT I come home and unload the car on my own. So all the crap that it took two people to load is now being emptied by one (very tired and hangry) person with equally tired and hangry children. At this point in the day, everything that they were able to carry to the car in the morning is ‘too heavy’ to carry now on their own and I am sure as shit not a pack mule so it gets left in the car. I always intend to go back out after the kids have gone to bed and grab the things, but let’s be honest, usually I fall asleep.
Do you have any idea how much artwork our 5yo creates at school?! I came home with a stack of papers the other day, I swear it might have even been a full ream. I mean the boy loves to create, and I love that he loves it. But there is just so. much. paper.
In case you forgot, or have noticed the closet full of tissues boxes I picked up at costco the other day -It’s cold season. There has to be a box worth of used tissues scattered all over the floor of the back of the van right now.
Those Saturdays that you have to work, lunch is usually on the run, whether from chic-fil-a or something I packed (I’d go crazy staying home all day). Straw wrappers get launched from row to row, cups of fruit fall out of laps and the milk that bubbled out of the bottle (from the bubbles I asked him not to blow) drench the seat and soak into the carpet. And don’t even say it – I am so glad that you have the ‘no eating in the car’ rule in your car, that’s great for you! Not going to fly in this mom mobile.
I try, I really do. When were at the car together I grab the trash I can, or when I pump gas, I open every door and close my eyes as I reach under the set to pull a furry blueberry out from God knows when. But I just can’t keep up.
I know it’s a mess. Yell at the kids.
Your hangry and tired pack-mule.