Coffee Slob

I cleaned my car last weekend.  Not only did I remove armfuls of crap toys, books, colored pencils and expired coupons, but car seats were pulled out and the vacuum and shampooer were employed.

I have washable seat covers for the front seats.  The seat covers look fabulous, as usual.  Underneath?  Not so much.

Why?  I'm a coffee slob.  Yeah no, not snob.  I don't care where it comes from.  Gas station or schmancy shop?  Fine, as long as it's reasonably strong and there aren't grounds in my cup.  Oh, and that nastiness known as soy milk?  None of that, thanks.

Coffee is the primary stain on both front seats in my car.  Sometimes while hopped up on caffeine (or not), I take corners and turns quickly.  And I figure that one perk of a four-wheel drive vehicle is that I don't have to slow down for dips and bumps in the road.

So why am I surprised to have found coffee splashed on the back side of the divider between my car door and Fynnie's?

Speaking of Fynnie, the area around her car seat now has 98% less yogurt crusted onto the fabric.

As I cleaned, I thought about the mailer we received recently from the Toyota dealership where we bought Tom's car.  The one where they offered to buy my Escape Hybrid for just over $17,000.

It wasn't exactly a laugh that came out of my throat as I thought about pulling into the lot and asking for my check.

On the upside, my car has been smelling quite good lately, despite having coffee and yogurt flung about.

Have I mentioned I now make my own laundry detergent?  I do.  One of my local mommy friends told me how.  Right before I went and purchased some cloth diapers from her.

Not only that, but I have learned how to change baking soda into washing soda (especially good to know if you refuse to shop at WalMart, which everyone assures me carries washing soda), a key ingredient in homemade detergents.

Yes, that was me just now wondering if I really need to shave my armpits ever again.  I probably do since I time the use of cloth diapers around Fynn's fairly regular schedule.  Oh, and we only use them on the weekends.  So, yeah.  Not quite the hippy earth mama I'd like to think I am.

I have all of the ingredients and materials to make the liquid detergent, too.  It's a bit more complex than the powdered detergent.  And will require that I wash out the two five-gallon buckets that I picked up from another mommy.  Who makes the most exquisite cakes.  With frosting that comes in five-gallon containers.  (She has five kids, people, give the woman a break!  It's still frosting!  And did you see what she does with it?!)

It's the frosting inside those containers that is keeping me from opening them and cleaning 'em out.  I mean, I'm sure it's 100% processed crap that no one in their right mind should eat.  Like the Twinkies factory tube that still had "edible" Twinkie goo in it half a century later, those bits of leftover frosting are not breaking down.

What do I care?  I love frosting.

So for now, one of the liquid detergent ingredients, Fels Naptha, is sitting under the passenger seat of my car, smelling quite fresh.  I had figured that Fels Naptha was going to smell like the homemade soap a relative made when I was a kid.  I believe tallow was an ingredient.  Nope.  It's really lovely.

Which is good.  Because since washing out the interior of my car less than one week ago, I have treated the girls to their first ever sundaes *splash* and dumped coffee all over the console while not taking out a cyclist *splishity splash*.

In almost unrelated news, I am sitting in Fynn's room.  I usually leave my computer in here because I use it while we're nursing or she's napping in my arms (still).  She's downstairs with Daddy right now and I've snuck back up for a few minutes.  Madelyn just woke from her nap.  She popped her head into see me, went across the hall and turned off the laundry room light before coming in here and straightening Fynn's fishy lamp.  Then she came over to snuggle.

I know she's my kid because I was there when she was born.  But I have a cousin who would be willing to claim her, I'm sure.  They could live together happily in a home where everything is in it's place and nobody's car interior is covered in coffee, yogurt and ice cream sundaes.