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Does Your Morning Commute Drive You Insane?

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It is 7:38 on a Thursday morning and I am running late as usual. I glance at the clock on the dashboard before turning my head to safely back out of the driveway. I am only three minutes late and that is not enough to make it or break it for school drop off. It has been less than ten minutes since I was standing in the garage doorway, my foot propping open the door for the three blond boys that were running out to the car. My arms are loaded with lunch boxes and water bottles and as each child passes me, I hand off the food and drinks.

Today is my day to drive the carpool so it takes only minutes to arrive at our friend’s house. Once everyone is safely strapped inside, we begin our journey to school and I cross my fingers that we hit it lucky at a few stoplights. At the first light, I reach down for my travel mug, thankful that I had enough time to bring coffee. My gratitude is short lived when the coffee that is supposed to stay inside my $25 cup leaks out the lid and drips hot coffee onto my lap. As the light turns green, I wonder if my husband’s ears are ringing since I am silently cursing him out for taking the “good mug” and leaving me with the leaker. Note to self: buy replacement travel mug.

My car is a full-on chatter house with four little boys laughing and talking. They are all engaging in conversation at the same time and my head is beginning to pound. My 2-year-old keeps asking me in loud voice, “Is this nice, Mommy?” and immediately screams like Jim Carey in Dumb and Dumber. This makes the rest of my passengers howl with laughter. I take two fingers and gently rub the center of my forehead while breathing deeply.

Next, I announce that we should play the “I’m thinking of” game. It is our made up game, much like I spy but you don’t have to see the item that you are giving clues for. The game is a hit and everyone is taking turns. I only have to ask the boys five times to please stop choosing gas as the “thinking of” item. Another thing that I never knew prior to becoming a Mom, boys think the grossest things are also the funniest.

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