The great Mini-van Debate

Farewell, Black Mamba….hello Silver Tuna.  It was with heavy hearts that we recently said goodbye to the Mamba.  5 ½ years of memories- one of my most vivid was backing into Gregg’s car on Christmas Day in 2008 and screaming the first curse word my sons ever heard.  Luckily- they were too young to repronounce it correctly.  I am sure you are scratching your head asking me why I bought another minivan?  After all, I swore up and down the Mamba would be my one and only minivan and I would run it into the ground.  Turns out, “running it into the ground” are 2 broken axles, 2 tires with little tread, a hanging front bumper, broken sliding door, and in need of complete paint job.  Apparently, 71,000 “Ginamiles” don’t translate into normal driver miles.  The Mamba was declared dead and the search for a new family truckster began.

What were my options?  Our garage bays are very narrow and due to my tendency to destroy them, the minivan is as big as I can go.  I tried driving a smaller SUV- but it turns out if you have 3 kids in a car seat/booster device, you can’t fit them, their book bags, their frozen tundra gear and more than 5 bags of groceries in the car.  There truly was no other option for our growing family as Gregg delicately pointed out.  But, it was a simple text from my friend Toots that reinspired my minivan driving. “As long as the other Dads are checking you out at birthday parties, you can drive a minivan”.  Now, as you can see from the photo above, Toots is smokin’ hot, (and a lot of fun. Once, at a wedding of a mutual friend, she actually ate a piece of the wedding cake before the bride and groom did their ceremonious cutting.) So she pulls off driving a Minivan with ease.   Me, on the other hand, with gum stuck to my sweatpants, crusty spit up breast milk on my shirts and 8.5 bonus pounds of jiggly around my midsection … am pretty sure the only person checking me out these days is my daughter as I am her food source.

I find that people fall into one of two camps – they either LOVE minivans or HATE them.  There is no grey area (this is similar to how people feel about my husband).   I have had women tell me over their dead bodies will they ever drive a minivan.  As if driving one would cause one to slap on Mom jeans and get a short perm.  My preggie friend Sparky has a client who told her to resist the urge to purchase a minivan and that any man who puts his wife in one is desexifying her.  Is this true?  Is this why women are so afraid to drive minivans?  Isn’t the purpose of a car to transport all your people from Point A to Point B, and not necessarily pick up cute guys?  Especially anyone who is married with babies, toddlers or more than 1 kid?  Automatic doors, automatic trunk door, SENSORS ON ALL 4 BUMPER CORNERS, huge cargo hold for groceries- I am starting to sound like a commercial.

So, am I further Mommysizing myself by hopping back in the minivan?  Am I doomed forever?

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