When I was in high school my brother in law bought a new
model van for himself. This baffled me
greatly as they had not yet had any children.
I used to taunt him endlessly about the fact that he drove this huge vehicle
designed for soccer moms and he didn't have any kids at all. Even now he still
drives one; they only have 2 kids, though he does take the seats out and uses
it for work. When I first drove this van
he wanted to know what I thought...I told him that it turned like a damn
boat! Thus we dubbed it a land yacht!
At the time I was driving a sports car, which I loved beyond
reason. There has not been a car since
then that I have loved the way I loved that Mustang...I still mourn the loss of
that car. After having to drive that
land yacht of his around I swore to myself that I would never, NEVER own one of
those things. That to me was the
ultimate symbol of growing up and giving in.
I went to high school in Orange County, CA...in that area driving a minivan
was a status symbol, all the yuppies had one.
That, above all else, was a status I never wanted to achieve, an
abhorrent place in life to be.
My husband has driven Cougars, it's what his dad always
brought him...since we have been married we have owned 3 of them. And while only having 1 and 2 kids we were
happy campers. I remember going all
sorts of places and sitting in parking lots breast feeding my kids in the back. We made it work because that is what we
had. Around two years ago the last of
our procured cars kicked it...and my husband borrowed his mom's car to get to
work. It is a small commuter car, but it
does have 4 doors, and we discovered how great it was to have 2 more doors with
2 kids.
In April when we discovered this surprise pregnancy we knew
that before the end of the year we would have to address the car problem that
we had been so happily ignoring. It was
at this point where I knew that I was going to have to decide what vehicle to
get. I had always told myself that if it
came to this point I would get a SUV...not a van. I started researching them, and soon
discovered that if you were able to find one with a 3rd row seat and a V6
engine, then the tires were unreasonably priced. Being on a budget, engine size and tire cost
were important factors given the cost of gas and tires right now. And to retain my sanity, I was going to need
that 3rd row seat. As the searching
progressed, I soon realized that I would have to start compromising and look at
minivans. Thus the depression/irritation/annoyance
set in. The realization of what I had to
do hit me like a freight train and I wasn't happy about it.
I swallowed the very uncomfortable lump in my throat,
started quelling the panic attacks, and searched for a minivan on craigslist. We were able to get the money we needed to
get 2 cars: a family vehicle and another commuter for my husband to get back
and forth to work. At this point in our
lives we don't believe in going into debt for a car. Anyway, with cash in hand I started the
tedious process of finding a suitable van...and within a few weeks we found one
and brought him home.
My son was angry because he wasn't bumblebee yellow and
refused to ride in him. My daughter was
sure we bought it just for her because it was red and decided that his name
would be Rodimus Prime. My parents are
delighted with it because now we don't have to climb into the back of the truck
to go to church anymore. And I have hung
my head in defeat and stowed what was left of the small amount of pride I had
under the back seat.
I have been driving Rodimus for over a week now, and though
I am getting used to him, I am still working things out in my brain concerning
how I feel about this. I was sitting at
a traffic light the other day after school had gotten out and realized that I
had the same type of van sitting in front of me and behind me...each having
stick figure families and a woman my age behind the wheel. I fell into a depression and felt a deep
sense of loss and wanted to be sitting in my mustang again with its V8,
hatchback, and Van Halen blaring over the speakers. I wanted to climb on top of that van and
scream that I wasn't a yuppie, that I wasn't one of them! I soon came to the understanding that it
would be a futile act and that it wouldn't matter, that it doesn't matter
anymore. I slowly drove on fighting the
depression and the urge to cry uncontrollably.
Rodimus and I are coming to accept one another as we are,
but I have decided that if I have to drive a minivan then my minivan will
reflect my personality. My family will
NOT be stick figures, it will be Super Mario!
I will play rock music until the speakers burst. If I have to sit and wait in a line to pick
up one or more kids then my van will damn well stand out as not being the
soccer mom van! I am going to make it
very clear that I chose the van, not as a status symbol, but as a
necessity. Rodimus will become a
reflection of our family and my personality.
I believe we both will be happier this way, and we will be able to grow
together and learn to love each other.
Here’s to you Rodimus, may you serve us well for a long time!!
