Soccer Mom- The Conclusion

The day has finally arrived.  If pushing a human being out of my body didn't convince the world that I'm a mom, they'll certainly be convinced now.

I drive a minivan.

The switcheroo happened this past weekend.  My parents drove down with a full van to move my brother back into school (yay!), and they drove back to Ohio in a much emptier sedan.

Although not completely empty- I have reached a stage in life where I want crap out of my house.  Lucky for me my siblings are entering a stage in their lives where they are moving into first apartments, and therefore need crap for their houses.

But I digress.

Here she is:

I thought and thought, trying to come up with a great name for her.  Big Bertha and Large Marge were seriously all I could come up with.  I compromised with myself and decided to call her Margie.  And I also put a cute sticker on her.  Now she's girly and cute, and doesn't make me think of the scary truck driver Large Marge from Pee Wee's Big Adventure.  (Remember that?  Creepy.) 

I am a big fan of the ease of getting G in and out of his car seat, without having to bend over and/or break my back.  I love that his stroller conveniently slides right in front of the seats.  I love the leather, the dual climate control, the built-in sun shade for the boy.  Seriously, I don't even really know what all the buttons are for yet.

For a minivan, it's swank.

So, I've got my Swagger Wagon.  And I'm not ashamed to say that I like it.

Missed the first part of the Soccer Mom Saga?  Read it here. 
The second installment can be found here.