Honda Odyssey

I got a new minivan yesterday. Well, a used one, but new to me. It's so nice. It has built in window screens in the back (in addition to tinted windows), a dvd player that flips out of the ceiling, heated seats to warm my tushy, automatic doors I can open with my keychain, all sorts of bells and whistles. And what's best, is that it looks nothing like an SUV! (total irony, we bought it at the Hummer dealership.)

I think I've figured out what my problem is with the SUV craze. My problem is that I am minivan. I am 100% the target minivan demographic. I have 3 kids, I'm a stay at home mom, most of my driving is to take kids places. And I absolutely resent the implication, by car designers and society at large, that I should be ashamed of this. That I should try to hide my life and pretend that I'm going off-roading instead of to the pediatrician's office. I like my life. I love my family and my life, and I don't take too kindly to hearing people say that minivans are so soccer mom, or that they'd never be caught dead driving a minivan because vans are just for pudgy housewives with spit-up stained sweat pants. Well first off, that's not true. But more importantly, I am a pudgy housewife who owns spit-up stained sweats. And I'm not ashamed of that. I mean, maybe if driving a Trailblazer would make me skinnier, or buy me nicer clothes, I would consider it an upgrade. But all it would do is tell the world that I'm ashamed of who and what I am, and I'm not.

I'm having a bad day, alright?

I am a stay at home mom, and no matter how many catchy little emails get forwarded into my inbox telling me that my job costs $100,000 a year to hire out (nannies, cab service, maid, etc) I still bring nothing in. I may very well save money, but I do not earn money. And I am accutely aware of this fact. My husband provides for the family, I just clean up after it.

Some part of me, no matter how feminist I try to get about marriage being an equal partnership and me being a stay at home mother, not a housewife, still feels like I have to be a martyr in order to earn my keep. I mean, let's face it, emotional pain and trauma aside, the family could survive a lot better without me than without Tom. I could be replaced with a case of baby formula and a day care; Tom pays the bills and he parents. So, to defend my existence and expense, I over compensate. I bake and I (at least attempt to) cook, I sew, I wear old clothes with holes and I don't ask for new. Part of this is because I actually like baking and sewing, but part of it is because if I'm not going to earn money the least I can do is try not to hemorrhage it either. To tell the truth, the bra I'm wearing right now is 13 years old and expense is a big part of the reason I decided to let my hair color go natural. But also, I hold out eternal hope that one day somebody will appreciate all that I did that went unappreciated. Sadly, the thing about being an unsung hero is that you often remain unsung. How many early Christians were crucified and they're not the ones we think of when we see a cross. Not all martyrs are remembered.