Yesterday, I picked the girls up at preschool as I normally do.  Getting them out of the building and into the car in one piece is difficult - usually one of them wants to run pell-mell into the parking lot without looking, or is having a tantrum and wants to be carried, or is literally sitting on the sidewalk sniffing the petunias because they are so “pretty”.  I usually open Lily’s door first because she can climb into her car seat and even buckle herself in.  I leave the door open because she likes to shut it herself and because it was close to 98 degrees out yesterday.  I then open Arden’s door, help her in, and buckle her up.  I am usually commanded to fetch any number of toys, most likely that have fallen way under the seat and this requires me to kneel in the parking lot and feel around for whatever the toy of the moment is.

I pride myself on my competence and efficiency in terms of getting the girls in and out of the car.  Usually I can accomplish these things in under 2 minutes.  However, yesterday as I was leaning over buckling Arden in to her seat, I hear a short car horn.  I ignored it, thinking it was someone trying to get someone’s attention. Then I hear a LONGER car horn.  I finish up what I’m doing, and stand up to close the door. I see a large minivan blocking me in, and a woman making “hurry up” hand gestures toward me. 

Folks, let me tell you - I was about as close to using the F word in front of my kids and a whole parking lot full of other people’s children as I’ve ever been. I closed Arden’s door and went over to Lily’s, quickly checked that she was buckled in properly, closed her door, then stood aside so Ms. Frantic Pants could get into the parking spot next to my car.  Did I mention that there were NUMEROUS parking spots right near her that didn’t require her to wait for me?

As she exited her car, I told myself to calm down and breath and not kill her in front of my children.  She walked by and said, “Oh, I didn’t see that you were putting your daughter in.”  Apparently my huge ass sticking out of the passenger side door wasn’t enough of a visual clue that I was actually there, buckling my children. And if this was true, who was she honking at?  My kids?  Yes, woman, I leave my kids buckled into their car seats in sweltering heat with BOTH DOORS open while I chat inside the air conditioned comfort of preschool!!!  I took another deep breath and said, “Yes, unlike you, I have TWO children to get in and I go as fast as possible. I’m sorry it inconvenienced you.”  She just kept on walking. 

I think what took me off guard is that another mother, with kids at the same school as mine, and who has obviously experienced the PITA factor that car seats today entail, chose to gesture rudely and HONK at me because I wasn’t going fast enough!  This, while I’m sweating and panting, with handfuls of school papers and artwork, and she sits in her freakin’ minivan with the a/c blasting and parking spots all around her.  I guess I thought that motherhood means you understand?  That you are supposed to get what each other are going through?  Apparently not. 

So for those of you with or without kids who get frustrated at how long it may or may not take someone to get their kids in and out of places - give us a break, please. We are going as fast as we can, and usually that’s not all that fast, considering children when rushed move slower than a glacier.