Mom's new ride
When they issued the parental uniform at the hospital after the birth of our first child, we only took part of the ensemble.
It was just something I didn’t think we needed -- my gosh, the baby was only 8 pounds, how much room did we need? But as he grew, and we added three more car seats, a double stroller, and two sets of hockey equipment; we found the need for a bigger car.
So bigger we went.
We’ve gone through most of the Big 3’s lines of sport utility vehicles over the years -- but lately, I’ve found that although they are quite sporty, they aren’t as useful as they once were for us.
So recently, when it was time to choose the next family car I said that sentence that caused my husband to die a little inside -- “I think we should get a minivan.” I think this was his final holdout that we needed transportation not merely to cruise, but to pick up Pamper’s Cruisers. Because when it comes to cars, women are from Venus, and men are from Saturn, Taurus and planet Porsche.
But I can’t help it. It is time. I’m tired of hoisting up toddlers 6 feet into the air to buckle in car seats--my forearms are bigger than Popeye’s. I’m more than weary of paying $80 for a tank of gas, and I’d rather drive eye-level to a stop sign rather than a stop light.
We’ve had the minivan for a little more than a month and so far so good. The kids are pretty happy with the extra interior bells and whistles, and our insurance premiums have dropped to about forty seven cents every six months.
My husband was just starting to get used to it -- I had just convinced him he could drive better without the bag over his head when all of my next arguments ran out of gas. Just when I thought I could hang up a sign that said, “Husband On Board,” another sign -- in the form our new license plate arrived. I swear on Lee Iacocca I didn’t plan this, but I really wish I had.
Our parental uniform is now complete. It even comes with an engraved nametag.
-- Tracey henry, the Suburban Diva