Existential Minivan Crisis

I never thought I would drive a minivan. A minivan represents things to me - big car America, the conspicuous consumption of our culture and the denial of dwindling natural resources. Plus, why are all the windows tinted? It's impossible to see through the windows when you drive behind a minivan- like they get their own special view, while the rest of us just cross our fingers that that red lights don't suddenly appear and force me to teach Harper new expletives. Might be an exaggeration; she already knows most of them. But still, damn dark windows on those things. Minivans.......blackgh! Self-indulgent, quintessentially materialistic, space hogs. No thanks; I will drive a small, fuel-efficient, socially responsible vehicle, green to the earth and safe for my ever-evolving earth consciousness. Until...right about now.

Somehow, I have to take three kids to camp for three weeks this summer. And the car seats just don't fit. I almost broke my wrist when I tried to jam two boosters and Rosie's full size mega-protecto-seat into the back of my Camry. Can't be done and certainly can't be done safely. So I started looking around at used cars and I have been strangely hypnotized by the idea of a minivan. Yeah, a minivan. Hmmm. Really, me, in a minivan? Beyond all my green arguments for not owning a big car, which I just sanctimoniously drummed up in the first paragraph, is a very real identity crisis.

I'm not the kind of person who drives a minivan, but who the hell is the kind of person who drives a minivan? Don't answer that. I have some friends without kids who jibed me about being a soccer mom, who said that I simply couldn't get a minivan; it would be giving in, going "burbs", somehow adopting an identity. It got me to thinking, that as tolerant as I am about most things, I can throw down stereotypes with the best of them. I don't want to be the minivan driver and I don't want other people to see me as a minivan driver - to pigeon-hole me as simple, domestic, functionally uncool.

Because I am cool dammit. Or, at least I'm me and I wouldn't stop being me because of my vehicle. And that's really it. For the past thirty plus years, I always think I'll be different when I get to certain stages in my life. Go to college - become new college, intelligent, poetry-reading, coffee drinking young adult. Get job - become uber competent, respected, professional. Get married - become mature, secure, settled adult. Have kids - become together, funny, cool, energetic Mom. Yeah - none of that happened. Different vacations, same baggage. Love the ad industry. But I'm here now and I've learned a bit - like that I'm never different. Like, wherever, whenever I go, there I am. It's comforting in a way - to know that I'll carry myself into any situation....like driving a minivan.

We haven't made the decision yet; we might try to work around the several weeks with some childcare, some favors and perhaps Rosie wouldn't mind the bugs in her teeth up top. But at least now, I've sufficiently dispelled the minivan myth for myself. I think I might even be able to drive a minivan for a few short years without winding up in a step aerobics class or selling Avon products. Doh!