Tuesday, May 31, 2011
Soccer Mom- FAIL
Something has happened. Something that I swore to myself would never happen. Something that was previously so unthinkable that I am still having trouble processing the situation even as it is staring me straight in the face.
I own a minivan.
And I cannot tell a lie...I'm pretty excited about it.
Now before anyone gets too judgey, you should know that I did not decide that my 3-month old was cramped in the backseat of my sedan. (However, his stroller, Pack 'n Play, and various other accoutrement were cramped, indeed.) Nor did I venture into the used car lot in search of the behemoth.
This van was the property of my dear mother, who has recently found herself an empty nester without the need for seating for seven. So, a trade took place. I put the Accord (back) into the hands of my parents, and the Odyssey became my rightful property.
Now I always swore I'd be the cool kind of mom who drove a hip SUV with a third row of seats. Not the type of LAME-O who carted her kids around the ole' mini. But I'm pretty sure my idea of the ultimate mom-mobile has changed. Because lemme tell ya'- this van is pimp.
That's right, I said it. We're talking leather seats, DVD player, automatic everything...it's even got butt warmers. And it will make my life so much easier. Oh, how I love the ease with which I will cart around baby and all of his junks.
So, although my son is far too young to actually kick a ball, I will drive that van and beam with pride as the world assigns me the label of Soccer Mom.
WELL...turns out, that post was written all for naught. Because the car switcheroo, or rotation, as it is known in my family, was an EPIC FAIL.
On the bright side, my son is a rock star in the car. He was an excellent traveler. The drive wasn't nearly the nightmare that we were fearful it might have been.
The bad news? The minivan is no longer with us.
On Saturday, J moved the car seat from the Accord over to the van, and we hopped into two cars and started heading downtown for Taste of Cincinnati. We were about a mile down the interstate...yes, that's right, interstate...when the van died. Yep, the engine cut out a few times, so we pulled over...and then it was done. D.O.N.E.
Thank God we had two cars. My dad took me and the babe back to the house while the rest of the group waited for the tow truck. Once all the shuttling back and forth from the side of the road to the house to the Honda dealer was complete, we just waited for word from the mechanic.
The word that was handed down? It might be a goner. This is not the first time that this issue has occurred with the vehicle. What was thought to have been repaired two years ago clearly. was. not.
"This is crazy!" you must be saying. And you're right. This is a Honda. And it's only six years old. But it's a lemon. And it's definitely not meant to be mine.
SO, we drove the Accord back home yesterday, and alas, I am not yet a Soccer Mom.
Car shopping to commence this week. Get judgey if you will...I'm pretty sure I'm in the market for a minivan.