Good thing Baby J is laid back. Because that poor child lives in our car. Along with her mommy. We are thinking of adding a kitchen and PO Box because we are in the vehicle more than we are in our own house. A bed for naps in between school and meetings would also be nice.
And people, I am not kidding here. It takes me two hours to drop off the brood to their respective schools. We live in far East Tulsa (Camp Tough Love as my hubby lovingly calls it). Two children go to school in Bixby, one goes to school in midtown and my baby goes to Mother’s Day Out in downtown. Let’s just say I have thought about applying for a job as a traffic reporter because I can tell you every where every orange cone and road construction site is located in Tulsa County (and let me tell you, there are a LOT).
My overly anal and organized hubby has invented a system for loading the crew in the family wagon. I must say, it is quite impressive. Everyone has a designated seat and order for getting in the car, based on who is dropped off first. (I think my hubby missed his calling as a drill sergeant).
However, when mommy is in charge…sometimes that plan doesn’t work out too well. My mornings don’t quite seem to go as smoothly and I am throwing kids, backpacks and car seats in all caddywampus which throws our oldest daughter into a tizzy (she is her father reincarnated). I am lucky to just to get all our crew accounted for, let alone any type of freaking order.
And as soon as I make the rounds…I only have a couple of hours before I make the trek again. (Our gas bill is outrageous by the way). So in those few precious hours, I am cramming in errands, doctor’s appointments, meetings and occasionally, maybe, if I am very lucky, a lunch that doesn’t involve a drive thru or a slim fast.
Because we live so far out in the sticks (ha! My husband hates it when I say that), I never have time to go home in between errands. I spend a lot of time in parking lots (or showing up unannounced to friends’ homes…yes, I am THAT person) to kill time. When I was breast feeding Baby J, it was a lot worse…I had to get all sorts of creative to find obscure feeding spots.
And speaking of Baby J…her poor little head is flat on the back. Talk about mom guilt. The docs assure me it will round itself out…but what am I supposed to do in the meantime?
When we bought my car (or the family truckster as it is more aptly named), I vowed to keep it clean and not let kids eat or drink inside it. Ha! Fuhggetaboutit…I quickly learned that when you spend half your life in your car…you gotta eat. In the car. And with four kids there is no way, no how, no matter how hard you try or how many rules you impose that you can keep it from not looking like a hazardous waste dump.
I am hoping technology advances soon; so I can just beam my kids places. Scotty, beam Nicholas to school…Scotty, beam Jade to Girl Scouts…and while we are playing this game, Scotty, can you please beam me to the Bahamas?