Like many, I’m a bit obsessed with HGTV shows and magazines that promise to disclose organizational secrets that will provide me an hour more free time each day – along with the key to unlocking a treasure chest of domestic bliss. The reason that I keep watching these shows and buying these glossy magazines with canvas bins arranged according to the color wheel is because the ideas have yet to transform my life. True, I might not expend a significant amount of energy toward execution, but my time is limited and I need smart ideas that produce results.
“This is ridiculous” often crosses my mind, usually when I’m tossing empty boxes from the pantry or stepping over a pile of dirty clothes that I’m fairly certain have not been worn and have only been tossed into the laundry room because it’s easier than putting them away. “This is ridiculous” is usually uttered with a few choice words under my breath when I get into the car and watch when a collection of papers and wrappers take wild flight as a gust of wind sweeps them toward the sun roof.
Recently, I reached my breaking point. Tired of doing the one-arm sweep to clear off a seat for anyone brave enough to ride with me to a lunch outing, I decided to take control of the situation and the two little sweet-talking tornadoes responsible for the majority of the mess. I may not have control over much these days, but my days of car shame are over; and, in a pleasant surprise, the secret to attaining such four-wheeled bliss was easier than I thought.
The Paper Problem
The problem of loose paper flying freely and threatening to escape out of a one-inch window opening was solved with two $.50 folders from the drug store. Tucking one folder in the pocket behind the driver and passenger seat, my boys were told that any piece of paper brought into the car was to immediately go into their designated folder. No exceptions. Miniature Picasso creations, permission slips, and pages devoted to practicing name and letter formation are kept secure in each folder until the time comes when the folders are inspected in a dignified manner over a cup of coffee at the kitchen counter. And, surprisingly enough, my boys actually followed directions. Maybe they, too, were exhausted from the chaos. Then again, it may have been the threatening look that I shot them the first few days when they started to throw a pile of summer camp and preschool projects onto the car floor. Doesn’t matter why – I’ll take it.
No More Oscar the Grouch
I have found wrappers in my car from things that I have no recollection of buying or ever seeing. At times, the boys have pulled stuff out of their backpacks that they won at school, dumped tiny plastic goodies onto the seat from birthday favor bags, and emptied their pockets of the random coins, crayons, and Lego pieces that they brought from home. All of this was remedied with a small kitchen garbage bag that I now keep tucked under the passenger seat. Any trash goes directly into the bag and, unless my boys want those little plastic morsels of birthday party joy to join the wrappers, they better take them with them when they go.
The Chuck Wagon Stops Here
With the exception of car rides that actually qualify in length as “trips,” food is no longer allowed in my car. I refuse to believe that my children will starve during the ten minute car ride to Target and, if they complain, they’re denied all muffin privileges when we finally get there and I make my usual run into Starbuck’s. NO FOOD. This rule does more than just free my seat crevasses from gooey cracker residue; it makes sure that my boys aren’t eating out of boredom or routine. There’s something to be said for simply sitting quietly and staring out the window for a while.
The Ten Second Sweep
When I’m pumping gas, stuck in traffic, or waiting in the drive-thru for my morning latte, I do a ten-second visual sweep of the car and take care of anything that slipped through the cracks. I have been pleasantly surprised to find that, since imposing these rules and making them very clear to the little tornadoes that I shuttle around, a full ten seconds has rarely been needed. My days of car shame may actually be over, which is great because now I have somewhere to go and sit quietly when I need a break from the chaos everywhere else.
Are you ready to accept the challenge?
How have you avoided “car shame” – or, are you ready to start? Let us know!
