I love my cousin Whitty dearly. She’s a lot of fun to hang out with and we always end up laughing… Mostly I’m laughing AT her, let’s be clear on that point, but we’re laughing none the less.
Whitty has three boys: A pair of twins (set of twins? Two twins … would that be four?) … ANYWAY, twin boys who were born one year after Daughter 1 and an ornery little booger born one year after Daughter 2. This spacing was a lot of fun for me: At her baby shower for Thing 1 and Thing 2, I announced to her that Daughter 1 (who wasn’t even a year old yet) was completely potty trained! Even at night! And that Whitty should try to have her boys – both of them – potty trained before they were 1. However, Daughter 1 was not potty trained. This was just a little bit of humor to lighten her pregnant-with-twins load. She, however, did not see anything to laugh about. (Some women just don’t handle pregnancy hormones well, as my bruised shin could attest.)
To be totally honest, Whitty is a much better momma than any of our family ever imagined. (Really, Whitty! We’ve all talked about this fact at family gatherings!) You know those horror stories of new moms who place the baby carrier on top of the car at The Wal-marts and then drive off with the carrier still on the roof? Well, when I heard those stories, I saw Whitty’s face in my mind.
The point is she really is a great momma (even though she laughed at getting a minivan and prefers to deplete the Earth of a small layer of ozone over Dallas by driving her big ol’ honkin’ SUV to touch football games all over The Big D).
At Christmas, I like to get her boys things that will make them say, “Man, Cousin Minivan Momma ROCKS!”
Last year? I got them a 1 pound chocolate bar. Ornery Little Booger boy had the whole thing swallowed before we even finished opening presents! I rocked!
The year before? 2 ½ pounds of small chocolate candies designed to melt in your mouth and not in your hand… Unless you are Thing 1 and Thing 2 (the aforementioned twins). Then these candies melt in your grubby little hands! Again! I rocked!
This year? I’m getting bandages for the boys. Uh-huh. That’s right. Adhesive strips with all kinds of kiddy propaganda emblazed on them in neon colors.
See, last summer at our family get-together, Thing 1 fell and half of his leg was left on the asphalt. He couldn’t even walk and was losing blood by the minute! He could barely catch his breath to whisper – nay, gasp - the words, “Help me, Momma!” Whitty took one look at him and said, “Get up. You’re OK.”
And, truth be told, he was OK, but to him it sure felt like he’d just lost his leg to a land mine. He begged her for a bandage and she said - are you ready for this? – No.
Now I will give Whitty this: The bleeding had slowed (or maybe it had stopped… or maybe it really hadn’t started at all) and Thing 1 was no longer crying. But, because I like to have fun with Whitty (or have fun at her expense – either way!), I took Thing 1 to my cabin and gave him TONS of bandages! He loved me, and I rocked – which is why I do anything!
Imagine my disappointment when Whitty emailed and said she and her fam would be with her in-laws and wouldn’t be meeting with OUR fam for Christmas. I shot her an email right back that said, “Yeah, well… you can run, but you can’t hide! I’ll FED EX the boys their SpongeBob and Transformer Bandages! I can rock in Chicago, too!”
Then she shared with me a little story that she’s sure will get her a nod as Mother Of The Year: Ornery Little Booger went to school when it was 30 degrees outside without mittens. He had to borrow some from the school so he could go outside and play!
Small potatoes, I say!
I received this email from Whitty, who was feeling right smug about her M.O.T.Y. act while I was still at school. I received it at the school where I teach and where The Daughters go to school. I received it at school on the same day that Daughter 2 announced to me that she had not only gotten new shoes from the school, but also new mittens and a new hat from her “grand friend”!
And just how did Daughter 2 score such a haul? She got the new shoes because the flip flops she had been wearing almost non-stop since May finally broke when she was outside playing at recess in 30 degree weather. She got the hat and mitten set from her “grand friend” who wanted her to be warm since she’d never seen Daughter 2 with mittens or a hat and this was about day 8 of temperatures, as Al Roker likes to say, “hovering around the freezing mark in our neck of the woods!”
So, Whitty, you run a good race… you come close, but when you’re competing against the likes of me, you’ll never get Mother of the Year!
So, Merry Christmas! You’re not Mother Of The Year! I’ll miss ya! (And be on the lookout for that ant farm-drum set combo I’m sending your boys!)
I SO rock!…
You can contact Minivan Momma at minivan.momma.2@gmail.com
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