It's a Strange Love or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Minivan

About a year ago we were in the market for a new car.  We were in a good place in that we didn't need a new car desperately, and so we could take our time and research different makes and models and shop around for the best deal.

At the time we were a family of four and had just an SUV.  It was big enough to hold us, the family shedding machine dog and even all of the insane amount of stuff we had to pack for the kids for even an overnight trip somewhere (though not by much, it required some serious Tetris/Jenga skills), but we realized that with Ethan heading to school in the fall, the lack of a second vehicle was going to create some logistical problems.  So we drew up a wish list and started looking.

Ideally we wanted something that was going to get a little better gas mileage than the SUV.  Gas wasn't getting any cheaper and we were vaguely aware that our carbon footprint as a family could probably be mistaken for Sasquatch's.

Nice, but can I get one with a 3rd row?

We also wanted something at least as big as the SUV so when we went over the river and through the woods to grandmother's house we didn't have to leave one of the kids behind. 

But not so big as to be unable to be held to Earth by gravity.

We were looking at Crossovers and other SUVs and anything with a 3rd row, really, when my wife brought up the dreaded "M" word.

Minivan.

*shudder*

No word strikes a man with as great a sense of fear.  It's a direct assault on masculinity.  The mere mention of the word around any man, no matter how un-macho they may be, and they'll run away screaming.  I was no different.  In fact, I think my actual response was, "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!  Never!"

I may be off by a few O's though.

But then we got the news that our little family was going to be increasing by one.  The first thing you realize when you have a third child is that the world is built for groups of four.  Benches at restaurants.  Pretty much every amusement park ride ever.  Dinnerware.  Cases of beer.

The list goes on and on, but nowhere is it truer than when it comes to cars.  Oh, sure, the car company will try to tell you that you can comfortably seat five or seven, and you probably could manage it under ideal conditions, but having children means that it's never the ideal condition.

Car seats, diaper bags, changes of clothes, sweatshirts/jackets, the pack-and-play, the bag of toys they just couldn't leave behind that they won't even touch once you're out of the house... and don't forget to leave a little room for the inevitable swag the kids will be hauling home, because somehow you always manage to come home with more stuff than you left with.

So, no, "seats five comfortably" is just a big old, bald-faced lie.

For most families.  There are exceptions.

With the joyful knowledge of our upcoming addition, one thing became very clear: we needed a minivan.  After considering all of the options, there really was no alternative for us.

Head lowered and tail between my legs, we went to the dealership and took a test drive.

And it wasn't bad. I didn't want to admit it at first, but I actually kind of enjoyed it.  All of the doodads and gadgets and dual-this and econo-that appealed to the techno-geek within me, even if I didn't understand half of it, and it otherwise met all of the conditions we'd set out to fulfill when we began our car-hunt.

So we bought it and brought it home and it was new and shiny and full of cool features our older SUV didn't have, and we really liked it.  I swapped the car seats and my wife started taking the "other car" to work and leaving me and the kids with the van, which opened up whole new worlds of opportunity: runs to the grocery store, trips to the air-conditioned mall when it was scorching hot out, tooling around town while watching Toy Story for the eleven thousandth time...

And then we took a family vacation and I was forever sold.  The available space was probably enough since we managed to pack everything we'd need for the trip and still had lots of room, but then there was also the long car ride experience, which was almost heavenly.  The DVD player alone, and how quiet it kept the kids for a three plus hour drive, was almost reason enough to love the minivan, but then came the pivotal moment that really made me accept it.

One day while driving the gang to school I was flagged down and approached by a young girl to break up a developing fight between two teenage boys.  Nothing came of the brouhaha, but I drove off feeling reassured that I could drive a minivan and still be looked upon as a "man."



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