Don't Make Me Pull Over! (Paperback)
by Lori Clinch

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Reviews

“Don’t Make Me Pull Over! is the ultimate field guide for all mothers, mothers-to-be, and empty-nesting friends of mothers. It’s replete with EUREKA moments of discovering a kindred spirit who validates those mom feelings from where you are, what you want to be, or been there, done that and I prefer hindsight! Lori captures the schizophrenia parenting rollercoaster of ’I adore my kids but for 2 cents I’d give them away if I could find anyone crazy enough to take them.’ “It’s all about HER—but it’s also all about US. As her friend and confidante, even I would never act up and tempt her to pull over...she’d do it! ...then she’d come back and get me.”

“Like the great scientist Charles Darwin cataloging new species and behaviors as he traveled uncharted lands, Lori chronicles the ups and downs of family life and parenthood with a fresh and loving eye, sometimes overjoyed, often chagrined by life’s bounty and unpredictability. But her observations and pronouncements are always made with good humor and the unspoken understanding that despite the challenges, and sometimes despite the outright frustration that comes with raising a family of demanding sons and a husband who puts her in ‘chore boots’, there’s no place in the world she’d rather be (all right, maybe she’d take a weekend on an island with cool shoes, a good book, and lots of iced fruit drinks with umbrellas, but she couldn’t stay away for long). And her columns always bring a smile—an incredibly valuable commodity in today ’s world.

“In my business, I meet lots of people who think they can be columnists. And many of them even come up with a few good columns before they run out of inspiration, material, and gas. Lori, though, is the real deal. Her work is always fresh and insightful, and usually laugh-out-loud funny. The fact that she seems to be writing about my life — and maybe yours as well — is just icing on the cake.” — Greg Bean, Executive Editor Greater Media Newspapers Freehold, New Jersey

Exerpt from Book

I’m convinced that there are two types of women in this world. There are the orderly and systematic types and there are the chaotic women, such as myself, who cram stuff wherever we can.

The systematic gals make organization look easy. They know where the mate is to each and every sock in their care. They keep their linens in chronological order, alphabetize their canned goods and have never, for any reason misplaced a light bulb.

The systematic gals have dust free homes, their desks are without clutter and the prospect of soggy vegetables in their crisper is more than they can bear.

I am the queen of the chaotic group. While I thrive for an organized existence, it eludes me at every turn. My shoes stray from their mates, my best forks hide out in the kid’s toy boxes and I have been searching, for no less than two years, for the spare set keys to the car.

While I would love to open a drawer and admire its theme, I can’t seem to decide whether the drawer to the right of the sink should be called the Haven for Plastic Wrap, or the Cozy Corner for Cloves.

Despite the fact that no one in this house has had a need for a bobby pin in over 36 years, we house one in every drawer. Along with a rubber band, one bread tie and one not quite used Q-Tips swab.

Amidst this chaos, there’s nothing that I dread more than when my beloved misplaces something. It compares only to being served a search warrant by a band of overzealous FBI agents, right before they toss the house. There’s no end to where this man will look.

Take January of 2001, for instance. It shall forever be known as The Winter That Lori Misplaced the Checkbook.

It started with an inquiry as simple as, "Hey, have you seen the check book?" But it quickly evolved into something much more.

Right after we looked in the normal places such as the sewing box and the pocket of my green housecoat, my beloved spouse went through a transformation. He evolved into a man on a mission as he searched through my nightstand and rummaged my magazine racks.

He emptied the laundry hamper, tossed out my coupon box and then chastised me for my lack of organization in the medicine cabinets. He sorted the contents on my desk, dumped my sock drawer and had the nerve to search through the boxes of cherished items that I had stashed behind the sofa and deemed them trash.

He messed up the whole house while I ran behind him pleading, "Please stop looking, I'll find it for you. Don't open that door! Don’t open that one either! Will you stop opening stuff? Are you insane?" I followed up with my personal favorite, "Why in the world would you check the freezer? And yes! I do have plans for those chicken gizzards!"

The fact that the checkbook turned up behind the potatoes in the drawer under the stove, would make no sense at all to the unseasoned mind. But as any woman worth her salt will tell you, valuable items should always be stashed in the last place that the average thief would think to look.

That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it.

Last Saturday night, I walked into our bedroom and caught a glimpse of my husband’s feet as they protruded out from under the bed.

I instantly knew he’d misplaced something and that a lecture on organization would be sure to follow. "What on earth are you doing under there?" I asked with fear.

"I’m marveling at the mess."

"What are you looking for?"

"I’ve lost the mate to my black oxfords. Why can’t we do something about this clutter? "

"Because it’s tiring, it’s tedious and quite frankly, I feel it’s beneath us. Besides, why would you think that your Oxfords would be under the bed?"

"Because, I already looked under "O" on the shoe rack and came up empty," he replied sarcastically.

His shoe finally turned up beneath the couch cushion. But not before he rummaged my junk drawers, my glove box and the cupboard above the refrigerator where I keep the outdated aspirin.

"We’re going to have to find a way to organize this mess before we go out of our minds." He said as he tied up his laces.

"Oh, I am so on that!" I replied, "With categorize as my name and regulation as my game, I am going to put organization right at the top of my "to do" list!"

And I will too, just as soon as I find my list and a writing utensil.

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