just another sunday morning

i had all the clues. i just ignored them.

sleeping in until 7:00, pale skin, whiny boy, feeling cold despite four layers of clothes...

i saw it all but i still had to push it. so i loaded the kids into the car to drive M to work.

i heard K hiccuping in the back seat and felt nervous but brushed my fears aside. what could happen in a 5 minute car ride?

duh. (how long have i been a mother?)

i'll tell you what can happen.

puke can happen.

stinky cheerio puke all over the four layers of clothes, on the car seat and in the cracks of the car seat, spilling to the upholstery below, in his hair and on his shoes... that's what can happen.

now if someone would just tell me, please, how to clean it all up.

friday car ride

so, no lie. here it is.

it was late friday afternoon. sun was shining. birds were singing. the boys and i were out running a few errands before the weekend began. the world was mine.

suddenly:

E: "mommy?"

me: (somewhat distracted as i soaked in the sunshine, listening to talk radio in the background) mmmmmmmhm?

E: "mommy, do you know what everett said to some of the girls on the playground the other day?"

now, let me just pause right here and say that i should have known. i really should have. everett is a little boy in E's kindergarten class and the stories i have heard thus far about him have not been good. but he's six.. and i thought how bad can it be? plus, i was in a good mood.

me: "no, what did he say, honey?"

(i want you to prepare yourselves)

E: "he called them..

(please get ready)

...fat, bearded bitches."

(i will pause here to let that sink in.)

and now i will tell you that E apparently repeated that phrase on the playground that day.

what's a mother to do?

is he just trying those words out? should i make a big deal? what if he starts saying "fat, bearded bitch" to everyone?! what if he says it to his grandmother? is this the first step of many on the road to being a mass murderer, a sociopath, an outcast of society?!

what the hell am i supposed to do?

what would you do?

are there any voices of experience out there that can offer some wise words of advice? or commiseration?

i'll just be over here, pouring myself a stiff drink while i wait for you fat, bearded bitches to write me back.

my car

i have come to a realization. no, i have realized it long ago but only now am i owning it:

my car is a pigsty.

no more pretending when i'm around my clean carred mommy friends that they are just catching me and my car on an off day.(oops! i am TOTALLY on my way to the car wash right after this! can you believe that bird pooped on the front and back AND side of my car just on my way to school? )

guess what, guys? that's a damn lie! that bird poop has been there for a month!

and you know how i acted all shocked like that door ding on my passenger side was something new i was seeing for the first time? it wasn't. it's been there at least a year.

no longer am i going to hurry to the car after kindergarten, shove my kids in and rush to slam the door before any of the soccer moms catch a glimpse my back seat with its crushed goldfish crackers, shredded toy magazines, dirty tissues, half empty sippy cups, E's crumpled homework assignment, 12 pacifiers, the donut from last saturday and the bagel from this morning's breakfast as well as countless (dirty) items of my children's clothing.

no more excuses. no more charades.

i'm just a dirty, dirty girl with a nasty, shithole car that i don't even try to keep clean anymore.


damn, that feels good.