Once upon a bright but frosty morning, a woman named Lauren was given a Ford Kuga Titanium. Just like that. The keys were hers. But only for six weeks. She was told to make the very most of this time and to take her chariot on many magical adventures and to write back with tales of her travels. After six weeks, on the strike of midnight the car would be turned back into a pumpkin. Or something like that. So Lauren set out on her adventures. Her first was to the mystical Kingdom of Coles, which is the only kind of adventure a mother of a two-year-old gets to endure enjoy. This is her tale….
They say mums can lift cars off crushed babies. Apparently a mother’s love gives us super human strength.
I think it also has something to do with all the shit we have to carry around every day.
The mum lifting the car hasn’t only got her primal love and mother’s instinct working in her favour. She’s also been lugging around a lump of a child, a nappy bag, eight bags of shopping, various toys and entertainment devices all day, every day. It’s a helluva workout.
It also makes you feel like a packhorse, pining for the days when leaving the house meant picking up your clutch and your keys and walking out the front door. What folly.
Now it takes 45 minutes, 92 decibels and 25 kilos of unnecessary crap just to make it to the car, and usually means dragging your kicking and screaming toddler on your shoulder along with everything else you have to carry. You should see my arms. They’re impressive. The rest of me, however, looks like I’ve been sucked into a mosh pit and spat out at the portaloos. Such is the joy of leaving the house with a toddler. Saddle up, Silver! Hi ho!
This week we were heading out for our weekly adventure at the supermarket and made it to the car in a record time of 37 minutes. I was carrying only 15 kilos of bags, snacks and clothing in addition to 13 kilos of child. It was all off to such a good start. A dummy-spit at the last second sent us back inside for 22 minutes and we came back out with an extra 3 kilos of truck, books, biscuits and drink bottle. Less promising.
And then something beautiful happened. In my heroic effort to get into the car, I discovered the keyless entry. Where had it been all my life? I know it sounds like I’m joking right now, but I couldn’t be more serious. In five short days I’ve fallen so hard for the keyless entry that I don’t know how I’ll ever go back to my old car. What sort of primitive existence have I been living?… That extra step of stopping to rummage through your handbag, among your 80 other bags of crap seems so arduous now. I can’t believe I put up with it so long.
The drive was quiet and uneventful. Everyone was strapped
down in and order had been restored. There was no further screaming and my eyes remained on the road for the entire six minute drive. Must be a record.
We parked in one of the world’s smallest Parents With Prams car spaces. It seems this car park has made these spots extra small just for the fun of watching parents slide out of their cars like a slinky, before shimmying along their door like Spiderman and then that fun game of dragging your child out without giving them concussion on the door you can only open 20 cm without having to leave an apologetic note on the car next to you. Note: This is not the Kuga’s fault. It would be the same in a Fiat Bambino. WHY Coles? WHY?
Once we made it out of the car we did our hilarious and not at all tiresome dance of “Thuddy walk. Mummy carry” in which I try to negotiate putting the child in the trolley only to end up carrying him because I can’t let him walk because letting him walk is a disaster. DON’T JUDGE ME.
Of course as soon as I made it into the store pushing a trolley and carrying a toddler, I got the tut-tut from one little old lady because carrying your child is akin to flopping out a boob in the middle of the store. Because you just know in her day children walked obediently alongside their mothers in white linen shorts and long socks and never even made eye contact with adults.
Two minutes later I had another little old lady giving me cute, watery eyes because she remembers the days of having pudgy arms wrapped around your neck, slowly cutting off your air supply because you’re loved THAT MUCH. Can’t win with these little old ladies.
After an uncomfortable and oxygen deprived dash through Coles (in which I forgot the milk but remembered the 6 packets of Gaviscon thanks to never-ending heartburn) with only one episode of lying on the floor in silent protest at being put down, we made an obligatory stop at the bloody fire truck (TRUCK! TRUCK! TRUCK!) for a ride and then finally got back to the car where I waved my foot under the hands-free tailgate and the boot opened for me because I am magical and my car does what I want without even being asked. Unlike my child who tried to dive bomb out of my arms as I was hauling approximately 400 kilos of groceries.
So our day was a huge adventure. We travelled the lands to the Kingdom of Coles, we slayed old ladies, we hunted and gathered our groceries, we rode the enchanted fire truck and journeyed home in our trusty chariot. I had my daily workout and we all needed a lie down after all the excitement.
This post is part of the #FordThinking Sponsor Challenge for Kidspot. Ford Australia has kindly given me a brand new Ford Kuga Titanium to test drive for six weeks and I’m loving it!
Do you ever feel like a packhorse? Do you need to take 326 kilos of junk everywhere you go? WHY?