Does anyone else drive a mom car?
I’m not talking about that mini van you finally broke down and traded in your cute compact SUV for. I’m not even talking about the gas guzzling Suburban the “cool soccer moms” drive. The mom car I’m talking about can come in anything from a two door coup to a fifteen passenger beast van. Because it’s not about the exterior, the width of the seats, the trunk space, or even the number of cup holders. It’s about the car that feels like your second home. The driver seat is as normal and familiar to you as your own bed. Cause let’s face it, between school, activities, errands, and the occasional outing for your own social life, you Likely wish you spent as much time in your bed as you do behind that wheel.
If you are like me, your mom car is disgusting. Gone are the days of welcoming friends or family freely into your car. Before offering to drive, you quickly brain scan through your schedule and make sure you have time to clean it out, at the very least the big stuff. The empty cups, the crushed art projects, the random socks. The wrappers and crayons, and small toys. You hope to God, that no one sees you walk to the garbage can at the gas station with three empty coffee cups, a soda bottle, and the bag of trash from your drive through dinner yesterday. (Or was it the day before’s lunch...?)
You probably have a spare change of clothes for one of the kids, and chances are it was too small three months ago. There is at least one package of baby wipes, cause they are the best thing in the world! (If you are only using them for diaper changes, you are doing it wrong.) Sticky fingers, faces, the gunk on the seat, wiping down the dashboard. I would love to shake the hand of whoever invented them, for that little package of damp cloths has been a lifesaver in countless situations. Of course, there will always be some random toy floating around, and shoes that were taken off and thrown. The sippy cups, and crushed up Cheerios. Stickers on the windows, and crayon drawn on the wall panels. Sometimes, it feels like you just can’t win; no matter how many times you vacuum, scrub, and wipe it out.
However, despite the whirlwind that rips through our cars on a daily basis. Despite the fact that we want to throw a bag over our head anytime someone walks toward our window, knowing they will see the disaster that is inside. That little mess on wheels is our safe haven. We listen to veggie tales with kids, and when we are alone we either blast the music and timetravel back to being 16, or we listen to the silence of the road. After a long day of work or a disappointing meeting with a teacher, we retreat to our cars and let out a deep sigh. Those steering wheels have listened to our laughter with our kids in the backseat. Have listened to the cries and the questions as we cope with emotions we thought we had outgrown. The long conversations with the few friends you know won’t judge you for what’s behind the front seats.
Our mom car is more than transportation. It’s a dining room, a playroom, a nap room. It’s “just throw it in the car, we have to go.” It’s “I’m too tired to unload it tonight.” It’s a place for conversations with our favorite little people. For adventuring and rainbow chasing. For praying really hard that police officer doesn’t pull out behind you.
It’s our second home.
It’s our mom car.