Went van shopping last night. Looks we will have another black van of the “mini” origin. I remember the first time we were shopping in the mini-van category. A mini-van was the best vehicle we could afford for our family. Yet, I cried when we bought it. Not for the joy of being able to easily fit the growing family into one vehicle along with all the stuff that comes with kids. But instead I cried because I was driving a mini-van. The dreaded mini-van, the thing that shows the world you are no longer 18, young, & care-free. It was official I was a Mom. As if giving birth, sleepless nights, and tending to little ones hadn’t already convinced me of it, it was the mini-van cemented it. I had to accept it.
Now after a few years I actually have grown fond of the mini-van. I pull up in mine and park in the mini-van brigade with the other mini-van parents. We are the cool parents (or at least we tell ourselves we are). We are bumping in the mini-van. Looking fabulous in spit-up & whatever else our children have managed to leave on us while showing off our center consoles, 5 million cup holders, and checking out rims (OK so no one has cool rims, but if they did man that would be awesome!). It’s a rite of passage in some ways, one I’m OK with now. I drive a mini-van & it’s rockin’. However, if you see me in “Mom jeans” please have an intervention because then I gone off the deep end and in need of serious help.
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AHA! *YOU* are the confused homemaker, lol. Your comment on my blog threw me off for a minute. But not to worry, I can connect the dots fairly quickly.
I love this entry!! I foot stomping refused to do the mini van thing.
Ok, I'm totally going to have to add your blog to my blog roll.
And if I saw any pictures of you with the mom jeans, you'd better believe I'd say something. You're much *MUCH* too cute to try to pull off that nonsense!!
xoxo
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