Wednesday, March 13, 2013

What Happens In the Van Stays In the Van ....thankfully

"Well, Marleen, you could ride in the back and make the kids drive the car."

Afternoon Readers,

I'll be completely honest, sometimes I pack the kids in the van, simply to escape the house. That's right, I punch the ozone in the face and waste gas by driving around aimlessly. For a brief twenty minutes to an hour or eight days, I buckle everyone in, turn up the music, and enjoy the sites and sounds of things that are not the coffee pot or hearing my jewelry being flushed down the toilet.

It is my sanity.

It is my joy.

It is something that only has a success rate of 10%.

In theory, drowning out children with the sounds of Earth, Wind and Fire while I look at other people's mailboxes sounds ingenious, but that's only because one of my top three skills is wishful thinking. The other two are procrastination and worrying, respectively.

But it's only a theory because, eventually, you have to respond to your child's call. And it makes you wish you could leave your mothering instinct on the kitchen counter, just like you did the cell phone you meant to take with you.

The only thing about these seemingly important requests coming from the back of the van is that they are just that, seemingly important:

Two-year-old: Mom. Mom. Mom. Mom. Mom. Mom. Mom. Moooooooommaaaa!"
Me: *Turns down music* "What?!"
Her: I stuck my finger in my ear." 
Me: ....

Child: Moooooommmmmmaaaaaa!
Me: What is it?
Child: Hi.
Me: ....

Child: Mom. Momma. Mom. Mom. Mom. Momma. Mom. Mom.
Me: What?!
Child: I saw a tree.
Me: ...

Child: Mom! Momma! Mom!
Me: *regretfully turns down Adam Levine* What?!
Child 1: He hit me!
Child 2: She hit me!
Child 1: He hit me!
Child 2: She hit me!
Me: *turns radio back up and starts looking for nearest FedEx station that accepts twins for one-way trips*

Until Next Time, Readers!