Sunday, June 7, 2009

The wheels on the bus....

It's official. I'm old. Age isn't actually counted in years, but by the number of feet that lie behind the driver's seat in the car you drive...or in our case..the bus you drive. I think this puts me at approximately 65....only to be outdone by that monster Dodge Sprinter on the reality show currently making all the headlines. The only thing left to make the transformation a really bad mommy haircut. The kind where from the back....people question your gender, but you think the best thing about it is that you can just get out of the shower and go....not to mention the grown out highlights due to the fact that all your money goes to diapers, formula, and soccer uniforms. That's when you know all the sexiness has seeped from your body and your youth is totally gone. 

Don't worry...I definitely went down kicking and screaming. Man, I loved my CR-V. Corbin and I would zip around town like we were...ok, I was....still in high school. Don't identify with your car. It says something about you. When I turned 17, my parents surprised me with a Civic Coupe....much to my sisters' dismay...but I loved that car. I didn't even have my license yet...only because we moved on my 16th birthday and in GA you have to hold a permit for a I used to spend HOURS just sitting in it listening to the radio. Every now and then, my mother would open the garage door to tell me not to kill the battery, but I know her soooo well....that it was probably to make sure I didn't turn the sucker on and die of carbon monoxide poisoning. Me and my baby Civic survived a lot...a lot of boyfriends, apartments, cities, and just one accident (that I swear was not my fault). Finally...when that sweet girl wouldn't pass inspection any longer due to a completely rusted out exhaust system...we traded her in...I'm sure to be sold for spare parts :( So seeing as the CR-V is basically a Civic in the shape of a box. I loved her almost as much. She didn't come with the sentiment, but definitely my identity. 

For a couple of weeks now..yes I break easily...Richard has been talking about how when the new baby sweet baby CR-V was just going to be too cramped. Especially after loading that puppy down for a 3 person 4 hour trip to the beach. I agreed, but resisted the thought of driving...the mini-bus. He suggested a bigger SUV, so we entertained this for all of 5 seconds. Yes it would hold more...yes I could still hold onto my dignity for a few more years, but in the end, between the safety issue of the third row seat and the non-existence of the trunk space when that third row is up....we realized in two years...I'd be listening to this same speech again. So I agreed to "just go look." "Let's just go drive them and see what you think." Richard's famous last words.

So we drop the munchkin off at Nanny's and head south to Rock Hill..thinking they would be cheaper...but seeing as it was South Carolina (sorry for my stereotype, but I was annoyed)...nothing was open on Sunday. To appease the preggo, we broke for lunch. After the rise in blood sugar, I was down to keep on trucking. So back to Charlotte we went and our first stop was a Toyota dealership. And the first car we the Toyota dealership...was a Honda Odyssey. Go figure. 2005 with 17K miles on it. Hardly a scratch on it...seriously, it was like brand new with $15K knocked off the price. As you can imagine, my husband's anxiety started to he was on the Amazing Race and he struck gold, like he had to cover it with his shirt to hide it from the other competitors. I was basically screwed from the get go. So we drive it. I'm not going to lie...I started to get slightly excited...if I didn't look in the rearview mirror, of course. So they take the sweet baby CR-V to appraise her. So we go inside to talk numbers. I'm laughing hysterically by now because this is just like us. We had this whole plan to sell the car on our own, get outside financing, to do the opposite of everything that is usually Bray in this department. So we talk numbers, they suck, we walk out. I think I dodged a bullet...NOPE. We go to several other places, realize it was an awesome deal, and end up at home on the phone with the dealer. URGH. We got our outside financing...used it to get a cheaper rate with the cheap payments and now I'm the proud owner of a mini-bus. I know...I could barely keep up too. 

So 5 minutes ago, I was a young down, zipping around in my sassy lil' car and now I'm old, having a mid-life crisis in the middle of a Honda dealership in South Carolina. Buying a mini-van was the equivalent to turning 30 to me...possibly 40. This huge hump from my youth to the inevitable dark hole of age. How did this happen...I'm only freakin' Richard so nicely pointed out is not middle age as I hyperventilated in the middle of the dealership's parking lot (good thing they weren't open). Then all of a sudden it dawned on me. I hated high school. I hated dating. I hated the insecurities of my teens and twenties. Maybe this actually the gateway to the best years of my life...with plenty of room to fill in ;) Maybe when I peer into that special "conversation mirror" and see my two sweeties smiling (probably screaming) in the backseat...I won't miss zipping, but will be glad they can't actually touch (possibly punch) each other :) Maybe my mini-bus is my new identity. Not an old frompy soccer mom, but just a mom. It's who I am. I bust my ass. I dry up tears in the matter of seconds. I speak a language that is not taught in any ivy league school...toddler. I am the professor of all of life's most vital skills. I am a someone. My mini-bus is just my Batmobile..... in disguise. So take the sweet baby's been a fun ride....but there are definitely greener pastures on this side of the fence :)