To the man who took it upon himself to evaluate the untidy condition of my disheveled van:
There’s no way you’d tolerate your own car looking or smelling like this. Nor would you permit your partner to transform a family vehicle into such a state.
How dare I! Apparently, my parenting skills are as appalling as the state of my van for prioritizing the well-being of the living beings I care for over a mere mode of transport.
Well, guess what, my friend? And yes, “friend” is used here loosely; it’s a kinder alternative to the term I’d prefer, which I’ll refrain from using since, well, the little ones are within earshot.
The truth is, this “mom-mobile” is a reflection of my life’s chaos, not laziness. My children are the only ones who willingly ride in this vehicle. When they do travel with others, it’s often because I’ve had to bribe someone with cash or my endless gratitude. While they are with others, they seem well-fed and content because I have met their every demand before they leave.
When they are in my care, they’re often exhausted from school and stress-eating in anticipation of after-school activities. They’re emotional from their daily interactions, eager to return to their ever-busy mother. And do you know what happens next?
They create a total disaster. They turn the inside of the car into a chaotic mess with everything they can reach — snacks, crayons, papers, hair ties, yesterday’s cookie remnants, and who knows what else, all topped with a nice layer of who knows what.
While you might view my messy van as a sign of poor parenting, I assure you, my dedication as a mother is far from negligent.
Negligent parenting would not involve shuttling my children around town multiple times for forgotten items, nor would it involve feeding them in the car to keep the peace — a necessity for my sanity more than theirs.
It’s not indifference that keeps me from washing my van; I already endure enough judgment from you and other parents during drop-off. I certainly don’t need to add the muttered comments from the young men at the local car wash to the mix.
You say shame on me? I say shame on you.
Shame on you, my partner, for not taking the kids on these excursions more often. Oh, you work? Then shame on you for critiquing how I choose to manage my responsibilities and my vehicle, which often reflects a state of sheer exhaustion and overwhelm.
In the future, consider reframing your perspective and describing our family car as “filled with love,” because that’s what it undoubtedly represents.
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Summary
In response to a man’s judgment over the messy state of her van, the author defends her parenting by illustrating the chaotic yet loving environment she provides for her children. She highlights the challenges of motherhood, the sacrifices made for her children’s happiness, and suggests that the state of the vehicle is a testament to her dedication rather than negligence.