I bought a F*ing Minivan.
Let’s back up a bit here. I had no intention of being a minivan mom. I purposely bought a crossover/SUV Thingy with a third row. The seats could slide forward, the small ones could climb back, there were cup holders for everyone and even room for a spare kid. There was even a seat heater and bluetooth upfront for mom.
All was right in the world.
Then my SUV Thingy contracted some bad juju. Let’s just say there were some extra dings, strange noises and expensive repairs in our future.
We took the SUV Thingy in and decided we needed to buy a new car. We have three kids and am often carting around 4 or 5. The only logical, sensible choice was a minivan.
Arg. I was a bit deflated.
I just never thought of myself as a minivan driver. I live in a fantasy world. One where as long as I wasn’t with my kids, no one knows I’m a mom. I can hide out in my SUV Thingy and pretend. I don’t even let my kids eat in the car and if they bring a toy in they have to take it out. My ride is squeaky clean — if you overlook the carseats, kids don’t exist.
I have seen those minivan moms at school drop off. They ride up in their wagon, roll open those doors and the kids jump out like little ninjas. At Target they strut up to their car and the magic gate lifts allowing them to effortlessly load the van. I’ve even seen a mom put in groceries AND a couch. Amazing.
The thing is I wanted my fantasy.
But I got a minivan.
Let me tell you about this new ride — my Swagger Wagon (if you haven’t seen the video, check it out). The inside has everything — a TV/DVR; more cup holders than one family needs; and reclining seats that are softer than those cushy ones at the movie theatre. You can even plug in and/or charge any device you might desire. If it had a private bathroom, I would move in and let the kids have the house. The Swagger Wagon is like a limo inside — plush, soft, smooth, modern. However, you step out and it is still a F*ing Minivan.
I may not love it, but my kids do and their friends think it is cool. I recognize that this is only going to last so long — but I’ll take what I can get.