on glitter, bigass rides, and being nice

This is me with my new wheels.


At least that's what the size ratio feels like.  

It's kind of rambly, but get a snack and stick it out...

Ok, this morning I was drinking my coffee and putting on my face.  And before I knew it, I was applying body glitter.  Because it was right there by the mascara begging to be used, and its Monday, and mostly because I said so.

The two littles were making messes and playing together like besties.  Dinosaurs were drinking chocolate milk.  It was basically the Brady Bunch around here if you don't count the glitter and the dinosaurs.



I had my day alllll planned.  Drop off the Buzz at preschool, take the van in for repairs, pick up the rental van, get groceries, pick him up from preschool, feed them lunch, go to kindergarten round-up, make supper, go to work, and tuck them in.  While making doctor appointments, turning in camp registrations, hiring sitters, and doing the laundry.  No biggie.  A normal, glittery Monday.

This is what mamas do in order to start that list:  After feeding and clothing and washing and herding the kids, carry three loads of junk in from the van so that the car repair people will believe we are the Brady's....carry the crockpot to return to a friend out to the van....carry the farm toys the preschool teacher asked to borrow out to the van....bribe the children to the van with fruitsnacks....strap them in....tie their shoes...notice Sage McCage's einstein-do and go back to the house for hair tyes and a brush....get her out of the van to do her hair....go back inside to warm my now-cold coffee....go back in again to get a sweatshirt for the preschooler....and then and only then....turn the key in the ignition.

We were only 3 minutes late.  Woot-woot!  There's something about the fiasco of simply getting out the door.  It puts me on the edge of a beautiful breakdown if once we are truly ready to go, things don't go as planned.

But then the key wouldn't turn in the van.  Would.not.turn.

I would like to here put out a good word about a man named Richard Monares at the Conklin Cars bodyshop.  He was calm and quick and had his friend coming to tow me.

The kids were praying out loud. "Dear God please make the key turn....let the van start...." Then "Go God Go Go God Go".  It was sweet and warmed my fuming mama heart to hear them immediately turn to that.  I was freaking and in hindsight I'm irritated that it was such a gigantic life or death stressed out to the freaking max deal in my head.  But it was.  I didn't say one single swear word out loud.  Go-Go God maybe answered the prayers by shutting down my sailor mouth?

But eventually guess what?  The key turned.

So the tow was cancelled and Monday was resumed.

But I was very much no longer sparkling.  I did not roll well with the punches.  I did not appreciate the change in plans.  I very much more than ever hated that stupid minivan.  But....I've been finding lately that if I want to feel happy, the fastest way is to do kind things.  Be nice.

So a route 44 mango-lime-aid went to Conklin Cars Richard.

And I'll keep my friend's kids tomorrow night.  She talked me down and tried the key and took Riv to preschool and picked up gum at the store and basically just agreed to be present.

And I made supper for my parents, who took River to lunch so I could still grocery-shop.  Which turned into this really great end to the day.

Who'd have thunk it?  Call on old friends, make new ones, crawl down out of my head, and get nice.  Turns out it works.  And if you're lucky, you'll get a badass brand new SUV for your rental.


If you need to find me for the next 10 days or so, look for the biggest brightest red SUV in the county with this little lady in the driver's seat.  She'll be wearing glitter.