Betrayal

I did something today that I never thought I would do. I betrayed the teenage version of myself with a simple, seemingly minor thing. The girl that I used to be... the woman I am... the girl I have known for the past 30 years did something COMPLETELY out of character. This action, this choice I made may not seem like a big deal to many and still for others, it can be a good thing. But for me, I almost went over the edge. But...

I didn't. I teetered there. Peered out over the vast terrain that would and could become me, even liked some of what I saw. But then something happened. A rubber band inside my head snapped. I was jolted out of the beautifully logical trance that had hypnotized me and I regained my footing. I quickly turned from it and drove away as fast as I could. Literally.

You see, I test drove a minivan. Yep. I did. That's what all this is about.

I have come to understand there are two schools of thought on the subject of minivans. Either pro or con. There is no in-between. Many have been converted from one side to the other, but in most cases, it is black and white. It is one of those subjects not mentioned in casual conversations - kind of avoided the same way people avoid talking religion, abortion, politics, etc. No minivan talk in suburbia. We have our own mini-gaza strip and you better pick a side.

I can't explain why I feel so compelled to avoid driving a minivan. Logic escapes me. But what I have discovered is that my opinion is NOT based on logic, but on something rooted deep in my bones. It might stem from the fact that I come from the first generation of minivan moms. We were raised in them. We were embarrassed in them. We learned to drive in them. We learned to DETEST them. 80's minivans were NOT cool. It is sort of like the station wagons of the 70's. If you were raised in a station wagon in the 70's, odds are you will never. EVER. be caught dead driving one. Especially if it has wood paneling on it. So thus, I arrive at today.

My excitement this morning centered around the fact that I had a $25 coupon for a Shark Vac then Mop at Costco. Seriously. I was elated to be able to go the the store and buy a CLEANING APPLIANCE... for myself. One that I have been wanting for months. One that would catch my eye on an infomercial and I would waste 20 minutes of my day watching and debate whether I should call so I get the hand-held steamer to clean my shower! MY GOD! What is wrong with me?! This is where my mind has been lately. In the trance of MOM.

In the face of turning 30, embarking on a decade of marriage, having an almost-7-year old, a 17 month old and a new baby on the way, I think a wave of "momness" has overcome my brain. I have been packing my lunch for school, using my free time to clean my house (not because I had to), keeping up on laundry (sort of), organizing things, feeling crafty, planning meals... Who IS this responsible person looking back at me in the mirror and where the hell is Lisa???

I started entertaining the idea of minivans a couple months ago and it completely infested my brain. I would notice them around town, think about them... even dream about them. Then one day I did it. I spoke about them. The word came out of my mouth. It sounded as foreign to me as Portugese. But slowly, each day, it started to make more and more sense. I did a little research, thought about the reasons TO buy one... and that was it. The moment you allow logic to override your decision-making, this is the moment you have lost the battle. You see, I have discovered minivan logic is irrefutable. Plain and simple. They make sense. You cannot come up with a legitimate, sound, logical reason NOT to drive one. There are none. Or at least I have not found one. And so I was infected with the desire to replace my cute mid-size SUV with a much larger momivan.

You may be asking, "what is the big deal?" And really, there is none. I drove a Volvo sedan before this and I think that said MOM just as loudly as a minivan does. But the moment I let my decisions be ruled by infallable logic, this is when I stop being me. I don't choose a pair of shoes because I think they are super comfortable and I could teach on my feet all day in them. No! I choose shoes because they are cute, look good and don't hurt when I walk 4 feet at the store in them. Later on, I may be hating my choice, but goddamit, I will stick it out. No logic there! And underwear... I don't buy underwear that are comfortable and make sense by not riding up each time to take a step. No! I buy the ones that are sexy, leave no VPL (meaning they are up my a** all day) and match one of my bras. Again, not the best logic. HOWEVER, if I refuse to use good logic for what I put on my body, then how can I change my decision-making for what I put in my garage? I feel like I would have to trade in my "HOT WIFE" card and only be left with my "MOM" card. I don't want to just be a mom, I desperately want to FIRST be a hot wife, then a mom!

Now I have to defend a bit, so bear with me. I have seen many a HOT MOM step out of a minivan (have you been to my school??) and I know they exist abundantly in Suburbia. However, I feel that I would be less hot wife and more mom in converting. I don't have the ability to OWN the minivan. And I mean OWN it. Call me petty, call me immature, call me whatever. But I know myself and if I am already finding excitement in my Vac-then-Steam floor cleaner, I need some help - and it won't come in the form of an uber comfortable, extra-roomy, economical, shiny momivan.

I have to keep some things that are more "Lisa" and less "Olivia's mom" - like my string bikini, my pink, snake-skin stilletos... and my car. But I feel, right now, I am losing the battle. I am waaaaay more "mom" right now than anything else. This is possibly due to the fact that my belly looks like a basketball and there is nothing of myself that belongs to me. I am just a vessel for life and have no ounce of independence outside of my mominess. My face is starting to show signs of "mom", I have a "mommy butt" and I can't stop cleaning/organizing/planning around my house.

So maybe my rebellion to the minivan is a result of my hormonal desire to return to me, or maybe it is something more. Either way, I will NOT be driving one again soon because they are far too tempting for my logical brain and my husband refuses to make-out with me in the back seat of one.