Enter the minivan

July 10, 2010 § 1 Comment

Oh what to do when your hip little hatchback starts to feel like those skinny jeans you used to bar-star in before you got married/had kids?  They’re just a little too snug (ok, maybe a lot too snug) and kind of… well, impractical?

For as long as I can remember, there has been a word which has able to scare the bejeesus out of me.

*cue ominous music*


Minivans.  They freak me out.  Beyond the fact that you are purchasing of your own little slice of suburbia, there is something else I have always found inherently wrong:  the back windows don’t roll down.  If you’re lucky, they might tilt out.   And the seven passenger seating capacity also seems like an unholy high number given considering the stupid-non-rolly-down windows situation.   This neurosis might all harken back to being sentenced to the middle seat of the family station wagon.  Having two brothers who could not be trusted to behave themselves on a trip of any significant duration, there I was:  the human shield.   A human shield who, incidentally, was prone to violent carsickness. 

I loved my car.  It was one of the few things in my life that I have purchased brand-new, and was all mine.  It was adorable, could turn on a dime, and in the event of an emergency (like say, caffeine needed stat) could probably have deked in a generous motorcycle spot.  Then, we had Nemo.  Suddenly, my tiny hatchback wasn’t so much cute and adorable as it was dismally small and impractical.  The top-of-the-line safety seat dwarfed the entire backseat and edged steadily in on front passenger leg room territory.  And those teeny parking stalls?  Not nearly as practical whilst trying to wrestle a baby seat out of the back door.  It was official.  We desperately needed a bigger car.

What’s sitting in my driveway right now?

A very-nearly-almost-minivan, courtesy of my exceptionally generous parents. 
It’s a Mazda5.

Don’t tell anyone, but I love it.  The freedom to go grocery shopping without first emptying my vehicle of all contents to make room for said groceries?  Life-changing.  A quick weekend trip with the kid and not having to play tetris with the glut of random baby-related items required?  Transcendent.  Tinted windows that effectively silence all “what-is-that-bright-thing-in-my-eyes-make-it-stop” hollering?  Sublime.  Being able to fully stretch my legs as a passenger for the first time in 18 months?  Heaven!

So far all my years of big talk, it turns out that I’m a minivan fan after all.
Even though technically, it’s NOT a minivan.


Tagged: , ,

§ One Response to Enter the minivan

  • […] No matter how much disdain you have for people who fork over hundreds of dollars for a stroller, you may find yourself joining their ranks.  A great stroller will change your life.  I’m still in love with my BOB Revolution.   It goes EVERYWHERE.  From freakishly narrow dollar store aisles to rocky trails.  Plus, it folds up so compactly that we were even able to squeeze it in the trunk of our old hatchback. […]

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

What’s this?

You are currently reading Enter the minivan at hamma hamma.


%d bloggers like this: