Lunch and the Left-Overs

You know the story. Your child leaves his or her lunch box in the back seat of your car or worse-the garage. You receive this urgent message via cell phone in the middle of your dental visit. The message is that your child is crying hysterically because you forgot their lunch.

I am horrified. I call. The school personnel now thinks that in addition to forgetting coats, picture money, baked goods on a deadline---that I forgot food to nourish my child. I feel the need to explain that it really was in the back of my car or somewhere that she left it–they have heard that before I am sure. Please tell her I am on my way–never mind my half cleaned teeth and the planned vet visit.

I look back and see it is not in the back seat and being far from home-begin considering my options. I laugh as I think of my dear friend that recently experienced the same dilemma. Upon realizing the absence of a lunch box for her daughter, she returned to the parking lot determined. She plundered through her car and came up with several mini-cans and bags of miscellaneous food items. Arms loaded and proud, she returned inside quickly only to be met by a teacher that gratefully explained that the food drive was over last week! She laughed and her daughter had something or some things for lunch.

For fun, I begin going through my own car. Let’s see, I find a heap of old french fries lurking beneath the mats and under the seats. There’s the nicely melted, still in the wrapper candy chocolate heart from the Valentine’s party. Hmmm, there are a couple of cheeseburger tidbits in the wrappers in the trash. I find one item that I deemed miscellaneous because it skeletal remains left few cues as to what it once was! There’s the half eaten bag of Christmas cookies wedged behind the booster. I locate one sippy that I authorized as clear and the other as a biohazard due to its aromatic contents! Much to my dismay, I couldn’t pull it off!

Chick-fi-la here I come…

I flash back to my pre-child days with a clean car interior, the latest CDs all neatly tucked in a case, a skilled system for organizing all items, hanging file folders and a spare bag with all my essential emergency items. It was so clean and it was so nice. A nice little tidy life it was…

As I am driving, I glance around to see scattered art work, pieces of important paper scattered about, several homeless Happy Meal toys, paper with letters drawn in the handwriting of a three and five year old. There is a tote bag overflowing with articles and items to be read. Located in the rear view, another emergency bag stuffed with shirts and.shorts for them-and me…just in case. Kid’s CDs are scattered and loose on the passenger seat.

Water bottles, half full, are everywhere. There are hair accessories on the floor board. The windows are dirtied from little fingers chasing rain drops and drawing smiley faces. There’s my to-do list from last week with one item checked off. Receipts and old shopping lists are stuffed in the drink holders. Jackets of every sort are everywhere. There is a bottle of aspirin and some hand sanitizer rolling about.

In the back, there is a park blanket, sand toys, a large canvas cooler and a first aid kit-all just in case. There’s the one winged kite and an umbrella that droops. The activity bag hovers in the corner for those long waits at the doctor’s office. There are sand remnants from the last park visit. And of course, there is the mini toilet and toilet paper for those potty training emergencies. Yes, it is a “we have been everywhere” and “we are prepared for anything mess”. And a nice little messy life it is…we are busy and they are loved.

As Moms, we feel judged by the neatness of our homes, our clothes and our cars. In this Martha world, appearances and order seem to mean everything. But does it? When I look at all the stuff in my car, it reminds me this is what matters the most-going and growing with my daughters. The mess isn’t pretty, but it sure is fun.

And each weekend as we load the girls up for another family adventure, my adorable husband will continue to sigh as he sifts through the piles of “car-bage”. He doesn’t and never will understand the nature of this mess. And that’s ok…just don’t tell him that when I take his brand new truck for my solo outings, that I savor my dripping bean burrito while listening to Sirius radio and leave a few wrappers and notes behind-just for him!