Do I like it immaculate? Of course!
Do our children appreciate it clean? Of course! (They even comment when I have made feeble attempts.)
Does my husband like it neat and clean? You know it!

So, I am resigned to the fact that my children do not eat in the car. Not THIS car that we’ve had only 6 months, anyways — unless we’re on a road trip. Then, it’s only “neat” food…dry cereal, snack mix, and the like. Food that vacuums well…not melting, dripping, sticky varieties. Drinks (water only, thank you) must be in a lidded and valved cup. Period. Even the huffy/puffy ten year old boy that is too big for a sippy cup!

How am I doing? Well, hmmm, not so well with all of it…but there is one area I’m doing well with. The FRONT (my terrain). Trash is passed up to me and deposited in the map pockets in my front door — EVERY time I am at a trash can (filling up w/ gas, drive through, etc) I empty that pocket out. I have my things on the front passenger seat and I am QUICK to take them in at the end of the day…when the beloved spouse might want to ride in the car and need a seat.

When I think of the other stuff (translate: when I have to get something out of the “nether regions” of the car) I cringe! I either gather an armload or grab a laundry basket and fill it up. Literally. Usually to overflowing. Books, jackets, shoes, socks, *important* papers, crayons, babies (plastic variety, not human, thank you!). I then deposit the arm full or the basket outside the door from the garage to the laundry room. I see it every time someone comes in or out. I give the kids fair warning on their items. Then, when I’ve seen enough of it being dug through and left…and left…and left…I pitch it! I’ve done it once, so far, and am about to announce the “Last Day” on the current pile.

Please, PLEASE bear in mind I am not consistent with this new system. I want to be. I LONG to be. However, with all honesty, I am not. It’s a process. I am always having to tweak and fine tune my “systems” so I can do (translate: want to do) them. I’ll keep you posted on how my STORY BUILDING is coming along.

Sigh.

We have the same issue. Any time my husband needs to take it somewhere he has to clean it out and he just gets mad. Or since he works at a dealership, he’ll take it to have it detailed and then he gets mad because he’s embarrassed about the rock solid half a cheeseburger under the seat that someone found. He complains about it all the time like I’M the one that spilled the Dr. Pepper in those way back cup holders that you could probably use for glue now – that is if you can even get it out.

I don’t sit in the back. I don’t leave chicken nuggets between the seats or french fries under them. I don’t spill soda and then try to clean it up with the boy’s jacket. I don’t lose the foam covers to the headphones.

But what I DO do is take my kids on road trips and vacations and camping and to art festivals and the museum and a million other places. I’m pretty sure that’s the same with you. So while we may have icky pits of cheerios and funk, we also have happy kids that have been loved along the way and we have stories because of it.

I once saw the saying that stories only happen to people that can tell them, so don’t think of it as a mess. Think of it as story building.