The Gray Goose: A couple years ago my sister dubbed my dinged up minivan the Gray Goose and it stuck, partly because of the alliteration of the name and mostly(at least in my mind) because it shares the same name as a vodka brand despite the different spelling.  Anyone who spends any amount of time in my car would pretty much agree that you could use a stiff drink upon your exit.  There are four main reasons for this: Josie, our just a couple weeks shy of six years old daughter, and our three sons: Jimmy(4 years old), Sawyer(2 years old), and Bart(10 weeks old).  There is an occasional fifth reason: our “first born” Moxie, our 7 and a half year old coonhound mix, but her main crime is really just adding to the funky stench that is already wafting from the car.  I have never admitted to being a good housekeeper, my family would probably love to elaborate on this, but in terms of this car, I have close to given up.

 The exterior: 2004 typical silvery gray Honda Odyssey minivan/mom mobile.  Features that make this one stand out in the crowd: couple nice dents in the front on the driver’s side- reminders of the parking garage at the hospital where I used to work; nice crunch on the back on the passenger side from when A.J. was backing out of our neighbors’ driveway and hit their mailbox…which was connected to a nice thick metal pole which was reinforced by concrete at the base.  At the time since the car was already in fine shape and we could really care less, we only had the crunched in light fixed so the dent above it allows for rain to collect down in the light and form condensation.  The rims on the passenger side look like someone tried to pry them off in a couple places thanks to my poor parallel parking skills.  There are scratches here and there in the paint in no particular fashion.  Remnants of black and red rope on the roof rack from the past few years of carrying Christmas trees home after we cut them down.  I blame this on A.J. being too lazy to cut all the rope off, but secretly I like this as it makes the car easier to spot in a parking lot.   

The interior: As long as there is a nice clear path for the two oldest kids to unload and load when going to or coming from school, then I have done my job.  This also means that the piles of junk(toys, coats, socks, miscellaneous shoes, papers, candy wrappers, empty juice boxes, stray French fries which are god knows how old) must be pushed far enough to the side so that none of the above mentioned items spills out when the teachers open the door for dropoff or pickup.  This junk is really just the seat surroundings.  One must not forget the nice large stroller or two in the trunk space, the pack n play wedged between the front and middle row seats as well as other random things which may be necessary on any of the Gray Goose’s travels(a large sheet of plastic, art supplies for one of the classes I teach, trash bags of hand me downs heading to or from one of the cousins, the tire jack).  The carpet is now a patchwork of stains and matted in bubble gum.  And the Yankee Candle car air freshener just isn’t cutting it.

Loading: After at least an hour or two of preparation in the house, it is time to finally hustle everyone out to the car.  With Bart tucked snugly into his infant seat looped over my arm, balanced out by my diaper bag/purse on the other arm, I am usually yelling at the other three to hurry on out so I can pull the front door shut.  I am thankful for being able to lock it before I shut it, but always have a brief moment of panic that I will have left my keys in the house(which has happened on one painful occasion).  I scramble to get past Jimmy who always takes his leisurely time strolling to the car.  As I am doing this I see Sawyer making a run for what he envisions as freedom and what I see as a bloody mess of him getting hit by a car.  In my rush to grab Sawyer, I accidentally knock Jimmy down with the infant seat(Bart inside).  Jimmy starts screaming and all the while I am yelling like a maniac for Josie to stop Sawyer at all costs.  Josie clearly won’t make it to him so I put the infant seat down on the driveway, fling my bags behind me and manage to grab Sawyer’s chubby arm just a couple inches from the street just before a school bus whizzes by.  Okay so maybe it was more like a few feet, but the overactive mom imagination in me had me seeing visions of ambulances and ERs in my head.  I repeat over and over: “that’s bad!  We don’t do that! You could get hit by a car!”  Sawyer just laughs and mocks me as I wedge his little body into his car seat.  One crisis averted and I realize just how late we are running because we are ALWAYS running late.  Now I am yelling at the other two to get in and get buckled while I go grab the baby and my bags.  Snap baby seat into its base.  Squeeze up into the van to buckle Jimmy into his seat in the back praying that none of my neighbors is watching because I can feel my lowrise jeans doing a poor job of completely covering my butt at the moment.  Ask Josie about a thousand times to PLEASE buckle her seat belt.  Slam the passenger rear door shut, run around the car and jump in. At least two of the kids start yelling or asking something.  “Quiet while I am trying to back up!  We don’t want to get hit!” Although at this point I don’t think that seems so bad…

On the road:  I take a deep breath as we head out of the neighborhood.  Start blasting the music to keep the kids calm.  Currently playing on Gray Goose Radio which is now under the control of Josie, we have soundtracks from iCarly, Victorious, & Big Time Rush.  Sadly I now have favorite songs from each of these.  Even sadder(and my 15 year old music- loving, concert- going self would probably have died at the thought) is the fact that I often listen to these when Josie is not even in the car…and sing along.  The calm is quickly broken by Bart wailing just because he can and because he seems to hate the car.  Other kids start yelling at me to quiet the baby.  Try to reach back and find baby’s pacifier by feel, stretching my arm practically out of the socket.  Contorting my body in such a way as to keep the paci in Bart’s mouth with one hand and steer with the other.  Definitely feel the car veering a little bit here and there.  Sawyer starts kicking the back of my chair, then decides he’d rather take his shoes and socks off and throw them.  Jimmy finds this funny and decides to do the same and a sock comes flying my way.  Bart is refusing the paci and wailing once again.  Josie is screaming for me to turn the music up because she can’t hear with the baby crying. Then she starts yelling that Jimmy won’t stop touching her.  I begin to yell at the boys to stop throwing things and Josie to stop yelling and for them all to “QUIET DOWN! WE’LL BE THERE SOON!”