By Guest Blogger Stephanie Mannuci-Polnak

Nothing is the hallmark of motherhood like a minivan. Moms and minivans are like Starbucks in Target, or me in underwear that comes up to my boobs, just a perfect marriage of convenience and comfort. Naturally, when we added another child to our family, we also added the swagger wagon. I know, I know, but I want you to know I’m still cool af; I somehow feel obligated to say this because I just saw the SUV moms read this with their judgy eyes. Relax Karen, this isn’t about cool points, we all know you are wayyyyy cooler than me with your throw back, butt morphing mom jeans and crop top.

This is about practicality. I only have two kids, so on paper our SUV should have done the trick, you know, just like the Shake Weight, in theory it made sense to someone. However, once you add the two kids, the two car seats, strollers, diaper bags, and 1,937,829 Starbucks and Chick-fil-A receipts I could buy a tour bus and still somehow outgrow it. Until people start to appreciate my gift as a touring pop singer, the short term solution is a minivan.

My insecurities aren’t loud, so I have zero shame in my mom mobile game. When I see Karen roll up in her pristine Navigator I just say it’s not my season of motherhood, as I wipe my kid’s snotty nose on my raggy breast milk stained shirt. I am a firm believer you have to own who you are.

Some people measure motherhood by getting one’s odious spawn to sleep through the night, or breast feed until adulthood. Not this chick, oh no, I measure motherhood by how much trash myself and my kids can jam into a van. To be clear, the process of complete trash conquest is an amalgamation of actual garbage and usable items, such as toys, lunch boxes, coats, dirty tissues, toys (yes more toys), shopping bags, receipts, gum/fast food wrappers, and soggy/hard remnants of food, etc..Oh, and if you are the real deal  there may be a dirty diaper, but never a clean diaper when you need it the most. The true measure comes by means of how much shit pukes out from the sliding doors when they open. As if you just unbuttoned your pants after a big lunch and your gut spills out. The fallen objects make loud and unpleasant noises as they hit asphalt. People in the school pick up lane behind you snicker and sneer as you hold the line up, as you desperately try to toss your shame piles back into your granny panty of a vehicle.

Really, the whole process sums motherhood up perfectly. We might look nice and shiny on the outside, but on the inside, most of us are disorganized disasters of randomness just trying to hold our s**t in.

Stephanie Mannuci-Polnak is a humor and lifestyle blogger living in Winston-Salem, NC. When she is not writing rambling sentences and abusing ellipses, Steph can be found navigating mom life on the struggle bus. Follow her work at:

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