I’ve eaten my words a dozen times since becoming a parent. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard the words “My child will never…” echoing in my head while I watched the exact scenario I swore against unfold. But there is something I’m going to admit on Baby’s First Year tonight that I thought would never, ever happen.
For as long as I can remember I swore I would NEVER drive a minivan. Uh uh, not gonna happen. Give me an SUV, a sport wagon, whatever… but you would not catch me behind the wheel of a boxy, mom-mobile. When we moved back to North Carolina after several years in San Francisco, we made every attempt to be a one car family. We bought a nice little used Volvo wagon that we thought would serve us well. I took the Volvo to work every day while my husband stayed home with our then, 4 month old daughter. He soon grew stir crazy and needed to get out of the house to save his sanity but a second vehicle wasn’t in our budget. Brent’s father offered to let Brent use their extra vehicle, a Chrysler minivan with lots of bells and whistles. This thing had it all – a drop down TV with DVD player, double automatic door opens, the works!
As grateful as I was that they had so generously let us use the van, I couldn’t help but tease Brent about his new wheels. He looked so out of place driving it with his shaggy, musician haircut and tattoo covered arms – but he couldn’t stop singing the minivan’s praises. “This thing is awesome!” he’d tell me every time I picked on him.
And you know, he had a point. It had tons of space for us, our pets and the ridiculous amount of stuff we needed with an infant daughter. Plus, we could watch movies on longer car trips – and those remote controlled, automatic doors were so amazing, I actually forgot that it had working door handles.
Soon, the minivan became our default vehicle while the Volvo sat lonely in the driveway, its destiny as a commutor vehicle set in stone. When we added a second child and a second carseat, even I (firmly in the anti-minivan camp ) started publicly singing its praises. It was hard to ignore how easily I could access both children from the front passenger seat. When we were loaded down with two kids in our arms, plus their diaper bags and whatever else we need to leave the house – a quick punch of the key remote would open both side doors so that we could get the babes quickly buckled in. Plus it drives like a dream and has carried us from the ocean to the mountains and back again many times in complete comfort.
So here I am, eating my words again. The words “I will NEVER drive a minivan” are echoing in my head as I gaze out the window at the big, silver Chrysler parked in our driveway. I’m a convert. A believer. A minivan fanatic.
Pigs are flying. Hell has quite possibly, frozen over. And I LOVE my minivan.
Find another mom’s uncool car confession here!