As long as we're spilling things (we are spilling things, right?), I have a confession to make. It sounds odd, since I've known we were on this treacherous path for several years now, but...
the truth is...
I'm not a minivan fan.
Shocking, I know.
It's just that these child-carting vehicles seem so laden with stereotypes, and even though I fit those stereotypes, I haven't wanted a minivan. Like I could secretly buck the system and claim independence with a big, fat SUV, instead. But really, don't those come with their own set of stereotypes? (And large loan payments?)
But here I am, 6 weeks away from having one child too many to fit in our other car, and I must tell you...
We now own a minivan. Place me in whatever category you must, but let me assure you: This Thing is Awesome. Really. I've never been so pleased with a car purchase before! Load me up with soccer balls, fill my storage area (which is surprisingly spacious!) with groceries, and hop on board for a ride in the best car ever. Er, best minivan ever.
The only problem so far seems to be that I can't park the thing. I'm the one making three-point turns to maneuver us into a spot only to step out and notice that I'm still crooked. What is it with this? I have pretty good spatial relations and a near-flawless parking history, but the minivan, she's a conundrum to me. This has led to some fairly embarrassing situations, in which an entire line of kindergarten-pick-up parents have probably snickered behind their tinted windows at the mom backing up...then pulling forward...then backing up...then pulling forward...
and still being catty-cornered across the last available parking space in the lot.
No bother, I think. Surely when I heave myself from the minivan and up the sidewalk to retrieve my daughter, they'll notice the belly that must be throwing off my center of parking gravity. Maybe my off-balanced midsection will distract them from the parking debacle they just witnessed, or at least I'll be granted some forgiveness.
And lest you think this belly is anything other than eye-catchingly huge, here's a fun anecdote from today: I made a Target cashier laugh spontaneously.
Just by walking past her.
Oh, she tried to cover it up by arranging her features into something polite and gracious. She tried to stop her bubbling giggles from overflowing again by saying 'Well, don't you look adorable!'
Yes, yes I do look adorable. Adorably odd and bulbous. And as bad as I am at parking my new child-hauling minivan, I'm even worse at hiding my belly from view when it's the obvious subject of hilarity. So try to avert your gaze if you see me coming.
It's probably for the best.