Rewind 2 1/2 weeks ago:
I will NEVER drive a mini-van. I mean do you see these women in skirts to their ankles, hair to the ground driving these mom mobiles around? Me--exaggerate...Never! I don't care if I have to squeeze all of my kids in my small SUV. I will do it. Even if I do break out in a sweat everytime I try to pack them in like sardines.
Then came time to turn in our beloved Silver Bullet (tears). As I am getting into Silver Bullet I am already in a mood. Arms folded, somewhat like a 5 year old. I tell my husband, "I'm not even going to look at one of the mini vans so
please don't ask to see one". He replies with a very calm and cool, "Well, ok, but I think you will like it if you would just give it a try." At this point in time I don't have to say a word. I just give "the look". C'mon, don't act like you don't have a certain "look". You know the one that you can give your kids or husband in any place at any given time and they immediately know... momma isn't a happy camper. Well, that was the look.
As we walk up to the luxurious SUV's and look inside it's like the clouds open up and angels begin to sing. I am smiling and giddy inside. Then I open the door and soon reality slaps me in my freckled face. Maria you have three boys. Two of whom are obsessed with sports and all the equipment that goes with it. Plus, you have a sweet little baby who is still in his infant seat and I have to bring a stroller, diaper bag, and the list goes on.
Deep Breath in, Slow Breath Out. Deep Breath in, Slow Breath Out.
Okay, fine, I will just look at the van but I am not getting in it. Great, now I get "the look" back. This is the look of I told you so. Did I mention, I HATE that look unless it is coming from me?
I think this could be an ambush.
First mistake, I take the stinkin keys. Hit a button and miraculously the side door opens automatically. Hmm... that's nice (I don't say that of course). As I look in I then see a
small piece of heaven DVD player with wireless headphones. Instantly, I think no more fighting little boys. No one saying, "he's touching me" or "are we there yet."
This isn't good. My guard is down. I know that my time of driving around with my Steve Madden Stilettos were soon going to be exchanged for some mom jeans and socks with sandals. (sigh)
Second mistake, somehow I get suckered into driving the darn thing. One thing real quick... I am the WORST driver EVER. I blame it on my mom, it's hereditary right? As I am driving the little man in the backseat just keeps going over and over all the safety features, blah, blah, blah. I know how convenient and practical it is. Please stop talking and let me come to grips with what I know is inevitable, thank you.
Fast Forward Present Day:
As much as I hate to report this. I am a
proud owner of my very own Swagger Wagon. Here is the crazy thing about this. I am falling in love with this sweet ride. No, I have not been drinking. I really am. Who would of ever thought? I am not sure what part I am in love with, the fact that my boys think it's Christmas when we say we are going somewhere or the fact that if I go shopping, I have a lot more room to put all my goodies. Either way... I love it.
I do have two small warnings that I feel need to go on the record. First warning, these so called "Swagger Wagons" age you like 20 years. Since purchasing my sweet new ride I feel like I need to drive in the slow lane. Why? I have no clue. Maybe because I am afraid to cut people off now because who does that in a mini-van? (Well, I actually did today on my way to Zumba. They totally understood. I am in a mini-van for gosh sake. They can't get mad, right?) Second warning, you will need to buy stock in Kleenex tissues. I feel like I can cry at the drop of a hat and if you know me you know that I am in no way shape or form one who shows
any a lot of emotion. I cry on a rare occasion or while watching the Biggest Loser. Other than that not a chance.
I will say this... If you happen to see a hot momma riding around in her "swagger wagon" know this, she is still rockin her stilettos and getting her mom swag on.