Muscles

Last night we went to test drive the new Toyota Sequoia. Cool car. Really really big car. In fact, car is a misnomer. Tank seems more suited. We gave it a go, then (in response to my fears that it would not fit in our garage) we took it home for the evening (the salespeople were visibly panting at the idea that someone might actually BUY one of these vehicles in these days of high fuel prices).. It did fit in our garage (barely). We have a 3 car garage, which really means that we have a normal 2 car garage, with another (single) garage door which houses our extra fridge/bikes/strollers/lawn maintenance things/tools/trash/recycling cans. It fit, begrudgingly. I would absolutely, definitely, without question smash through the wall, smash off a side mirror or two, and maybe crash into the garage itself while owning the Sequoia. Maybe even crash into Nate's car one day. That does not even begin to touch the damage I would do to his car/my car/our things/our children/myself while opening the doors and trying to extricate the kids from the belly of the beast once "safely" inside the garage.

Its cool, make no mistake about it. Tons of room. Awesome rear view cameras (so I could watch, in horrid live action color detail when I run over the dog/stroller/curb/other peoples car) some unfortunate day. Cool auto raising/closing/folding seat and rear door features. Its just huge. And the gas..........lets just say that the neato feature of it showing me how many miles worth of gas remained in my tank only seemed like a ticker counting down the money in our bank account. Should I ever get in a head to head with another car/deer/house or small office building, I would surely win. But, its huge. Part of me loved it, part of me loathed it.

We seem to be dealing with some sort of "coolness perception problem" as we look at giant SUV's vs. the uber-practical mini-van. I, like many other women of my generation, swore I would never own a mini-van. Yet I, like MANY other women of my generation, see why people own them.

We are so not cool. Not saying that we ever were necessarily "cool" ~ but schlepping around two kids, a dog and the various peripherals that we deem necessary to support the lives of aforementioned creatures has certainly knocked our perception of self coolness down a notch or two (please refer to previous post regarding the Thule roof rack thing...........affectionately referred to around here as the "silver bullet".). I will stipulate that we are not cool. So why the hesitation at the mini-van? Clearly we cling to some illusion.

Anyway. Taking an informal poll of my friends is no help. Comments like "Don't be an as$hole get the mini van" (Brendan M.) directly clash with those of the few girlfriends I have who already have three kids and drive one and are longing, hoping against hope, to get rid of it for a huge SUV (Tracy R.). Toss in the aghast comments from my friends who only have one kid (a MINI VAN? SERIOUSLY???!)and the waters really get murky. Add to that the whole DVD issue. My kids do not watch TV/movies/cartoons. I am one of those warped parents who do not believe that "baby Einstein" videos serve a purpose. Sue me. So do I get a DVD player thingy in the car? While I completely understand that my kids are getting older, and someday a little xanax (did I say xanax? I meant cartoon movie) might make our trips to the beach or anywhere else easier, I also loathe the idea that it might also make every venture out in the car a battle of "put in a DVD'. I don't know. This parenting stuff is hard. Babies are easy. The thought of being someones moral compass, of instilling actual values, and self control, and self respect etc in my kids is way more challenging to me. I hate our culture of consumerism, yet I am a part of it. No doubt about that.

Speaking of which, I went clothes shopping for the kids yesterday. I had a gift card from a baby shower that I had carefully hoarded up until now. I will tell you that I am unabashedly cheap when it comes to my children's clothes. I love hand-me-downs. Where I live that is a foreign concept to some, yet I love them. Kids trash clothes. They defile them with every conceivable body fluid. So I love free clothes from friends (shameless request for hand me downs disguised as a parenting stance :)). Anyway, it was my first taste of girl clothes shopping for Jules as she has been wearing much appreciated gifts up until now. What ridiculously cute and inordinately unpractical clothing they make for little girls! Whatever designer thought that anything WHITE was a good idea clearly never had a child. Kids clothing is inanely expensive. I need an entire fall wardrobe for both of my kids.........and after sifting through sale racks for 30 min I came away with a sweet darling little pumpkin hat from Janie and Jack. That was all, for the first hour. I then forced myself to get some cute little jumpers, tights, and a sweater or two for my girl. Today at whole foods I added an organic Tomato hat (in the pics) and long sleeve onesie to my fall arsenal. Did I complain about Indian Summer? I'm now embracing it as I am officially not happy about the fact that my children are growing up too fast and fall is coming on all too soon.

To add to my discomfiture, Julia is now crawling. I keep thinking of my friend (with two kids) who said............"as soon as that baby starts pulling up.........just push 'em right back down", with a laugh. Its all so different with your second child. I am so thrilled for my little girl. Her world just got a lot bigger, and my world just got a lot more scary. Not to mention, this whole crawling-girl child thing is a different adventure than with a boy. Her dresses trip her up. I don't have any answers, I know less today than I did yesterday, and I keep on trying.

Luke, on the other hand, knows more every day. My little kid loves to prove his balance on anything and everything. Our new thing is that I ask him to "show me your muscles" and he does the above. My little helper loves to find any tiny little speck of leaves/trash/dog food/food he has thrown.....on the floor and bring it over to me, proudly proclaiming "dirt!". Once I have ascertained that it is, in fact, "dirt", I tell him that he can throw it in the trashcan. He is very pleased with his new role of finder-of-all-that-is-dirt. I only wish he did not take equal amounts of joy in taking things OUT of the trashcan.