Copycats. You're all copycats.
07/13/2006 13:31 | Permalink
My family is a bunch of copycats.
Four and a half years ago, my Jeep Grand Cherokee started to refuse to start (I’m good at grammar!). Every couple of days, it would take three or four tries before it would turn over. We had a little monkey named Emma at the time, and a monkey named Patrick in utero, so we decided that it was too risky for me to be driving a car that might not start when I needed it to. Well, I guess, technically, it was I who decided that I wanted a new car, and it was Tom who does what I want (I just love that about him!).
So, we started looking. At first, I had my little pathetic heart set on an Audi station wagon. The thing drove like a dream, and had a flip-up back seat just like the ones I remember as a kid. The more we looked into the Audi, though, the more we realized what a silly decision it would be to buy it. The back seat was only rated for kids ages 8 to 12. We figured that by the time we had our 4th child, we might have one kid who was 8, but then we’d still be trying to shove three other kids in the middle. Hindsight being 20/20, if we’d bought that car, we’d have had to sell it since our oldest is only 5 and we now have 4 kids. Okay – back to the point. We decided not to buy the station wagon.
So, I was in a quandary. Should we buy the Ford Excursion? It was a cool car, very big, but the Fords to which I have been exposed have never been all that great in the maintenance department. Basically, once the warranty ran out, you may as well sell the car to some unsuspecting sap who will then be the one to put the few hundred bucks every couple of months into the repairs.
There was another option. But I had promised myself I would never do it. I would never, ever become one of “those women.” I called Tom. “Sweetie, I have an idea, but you have to promise not to laugh at me,” I said. This type of conditional introduction to a concept frightens Tom, so he said he would try not to laugh. And then, I came out with it:
I WANT A MINIVAN.
Oh, dear. I’d become a soccer mom.
Surprisingly, Tom didn’t laugh. Instead, he started to do some research, and we came up with two viable minivan options: the Toyota Sienna and the Honda Odyssey. We test drove both, and messed around with the seating options, and finally decided on the Odyssey. It had the pull-down back seat, and the Sienna you had to drag the heavy seats out.
We went to a ton of dealers, and Tom even let me do the negotiating all by my lonesome! At the time, Odysseys were in high demand, so there was very little wiggle room, but I was able to get one dealer to give me the van at the price I wanted with the options I desired (a CD changer and a DVD player). Needless to say, we waited with baited breath until the van came in, and off we went in our new car, dubbed “The Silver Bullet.”
Four and a half years and 97,000 miles later, I still love that van. It’s awesome.
Of course, this leads to my problem with the siblings. Once we got the Odyssey, all of our siblings got one, too.
It started with Tom’s sister Caroline, who got a silver one. Then Tom’s sister Mary also got a silver one. She told us later that she thought we all had green ones, so she was trying to be different. Really, I think she was trying to copy us because we’re so spectacularly awesome.
Then, my sister Brigid, a rabid anti-minivan lady in her youth, got one. And, last night, my sister Rita, career woman and super mom, also got one.
And then there were 5. All because we bought one and loved it so much that we couldn’t stop talking about what a great idea it is to have a Honda Odyssey.
Tom and I are trendsetters. That’s all there is to it.
My mother says that a minivan “just makes sense.” Whatever. Everyone does it so they can be like us because we’re so cool.
Four and a half years ago, my Jeep Grand Cherokee started to refuse to start (I’m good at grammar!). Every couple of days, it would take three or four tries before it would turn over. We had a little monkey named Emma at the time, and a monkey named Patrick in utero, so we decided that it was too risky for me to be driving a car that might not start when I needed it to. Well, I guess, technically, it was I who decided that I wanted a new car, and it was Tom who does what I want (I just love that about him!).
So, we started looking. At first, I had my little pathetic heart set on an Audi station wagon. The thing drove like a dream, and had a flip-up back seat just like the ones I remember as a kid. The more we looked into the Audi, though, the more we realized what a silly decision it would be to buy it. The back seat was only rated for kids ages 8 to 12. We figured that by the time we had our 4th child, we might have one kid who was 8, but then we’d still be trying to shove three other kids in the middle. Hindsight being 20/20, if we’d bought that car, we’d have had to sell it since our oldest is only 5 and we now have 4 kids. Okay – back to the point. We decided not to buy the station wagon.
So, I was in a quandary. Should we buy the Ford Excursion? It was a cool car, very big, but the Fords to which I have been exposed have never been all that great in the maintenance department. Basically, once the warranty ran out, you may as well sell the car to some unsuspecting sap who will then be the one to put the few hundred bucks every couple of months into the repairs.
There was another option. But I had promised myself I would never do it. I would never, ever become one of “those women.” I called Tom. “Sweetie, I have an idea, but you have to promise not to laugh at me,” I said. This type of conditional introduction to a concept frightens Tom, so he said he would try not to laugh. And then, I came out with it:
I WANT A MINIVAN.
Oh, dear. I’d become a soccer mom.
Surprisingly, Tom didn’t laugh. Instead, he started to do some research, and we came up with two viable minivan options: the Toyota Sienna and the Honda Odyssey. We test drove both, and messed around with the seating options, and finally decided on the Odyssey. It had the pull-down back seat, and the Sienna you had to drag the heavy seats out.
We went to a ton of dealers, and Tom even let me do the negotiating all by my lonesome! At the time, Odysseys were in high demand, so there was very little wiggle room, but I was able to get one dealer to give me the van at the price I wanted with the options I desired (a CD changer and a DVD player). Needless to say, we waited with baited breath until the van came in, and off we went in our new car, dubbed “The Silver Bullet.”
Four and a half years and 97,000 miles later, I still love that van. It’s awesome.
Of course, this leads to my problem with the siblings. Once we got the Odyssey, all of our siblings got one, too.
It started with Tom’s sister Caroline, who got a silver one. Then Tom’s sister Mary also got a silver one. She told us later that she thought we all had green ones, so she was trying to be different. Really, I think she was trying to copy us because we’re so spectacularly awesome.
Then, my sister Brigid, a rabid anti-minivan lady in her youth, got one. And, last night, my sister Rita, career woman and super mom, also got one.
And then there were 5. All because we bought one and loved it so much that we couldn’t stop talking about what a great idea it is to have a Honda Odyssey.
Tom and I are trendsetters. That’s all there is to it.
My mother says that a minivan “just makes sense.” Whatever. Everyone does it so they can be like us because we’re so cool.
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Tierneyism of the Day
07/11/2006 10:11 | Permalink
About damn time.
07/05/2006 17:00 | Permalink
New photos here.
So, having four kids has been keeping me very, very busy. I guess I never expected to have it be any different really. And it’s not that it’s that hard. It’s just that one of my four kids is perpetually attached to my breast, and therefore, makes typing somewhat difficult. I’ve been telling people to call me with anything urgent, because while I may actually read emails, I can’t always respond to them in short order. So, it’s best to call, since I can effectively talk to you even if I only have one hand.
Things here have been fun this summer. We had a great visit from the Carty Matriarch. My dear mother, God bless her, chased after these kids all day long for four weeks. And this was just after her pacemaker implantation. She must have been exhausted when she got home. I wouldn’t really know, since she’s no longer speaking to us. Something about the kids being the spawn of the devil or somesuch nonsense. (Just kidding – my mother loves us and talks to us every day, often three or four times a day).
When Mom was here, we tried to get out a little bit. One day, my Scottish friends were having us over for dinner, so we wanted to stop at a sweet little shop in downtown Chaska to get a little hostess gift. While Mom was in the store (for thirty freaking minutes!), Johnny was having a crying fit. I took Johnny out of his carseat to comfort him and try to get him to calm down. While I was holding him, Patrick exclaimed “Mommy! I have to go potty! REALLY BADLY!” So, I thought for a second, and decided that it was go-in-a-bottle-in-the-car time. I grabbed a water bottle, emptied it out, and let Patrick do his business. I put the bottle in the cup holder next to Emma (so I could empty it when I had a free hand) and buckled Patrick back in.
A few minutes later, my Mom finished her (outrageously long) shopping excursion, and we headed off. All of the sudden, I hear a weird cough/gag coming from the back seat. In the rearview mirror I see a water bottle quickly go back into the cup holder. “Emma,” I asked. “Did you just drink from that water bottle?” “Yes, Mommy.” “Emma, honey, that was Patrick’s wee-wee!” Then I laughed. And laughed. And laughed. And Emma cried. And I laughed some more. Then Emma told me that she was so sad I was laughing at her. I told her I was laughing WITH her, but I would try to stop. I couldn’t. I kept laughing until I started to cry. Poor Emma. The worst thing is that she’s my second child to drink pee. Patrick did it a couple of years ago, but his was worse – he used a cup to dip into the potty after Emma had used it and not flushed it. Ick.
Since we’ve had Johnny, we have been busier than we’ve ever been. When he was two weeks old, we hosted our annual Day Before Memorial Day Bash for Tom’s work colleagues. Luckily, my mother was here to help. It was Texas themed this year (I made CDs of Texas songs as invitations), and my mother makes one kick ass brisket. So, we made 4. Plus we got chips and salsa, beans, cole slaw, and tater salad. I ordered a bunch of little Texas flags online, and lined the front walk with them. It was hot as heck that day, so God was in on my Texas theme. 99 in Chaska – hottest spot in Minnesota that day. It was a lot of fun, but I spent a good portion of the party up in my room feeding Johnny. He was, after all, only 2 weeks old. He needed lots of nourishment.
Then, we had to finish up swimming lessons. Then we had three days of karate camp for Patrick. That was fun. He’s actually pretty good, but he doesn’t yet have the discipline required for full-on karate classes. The next week was cheerleading camp for Emma. On the last day, I bought her a pack of Starbursts, and she handed them all out to the cheerleaders from the high school who ran the camp. It was so cute. The following week was drama camp.
Drama camp is always an adventure. Last year, Emma had been bitten by a mosquito on her eye the night before drama camp started and her eye was swollen shut for the first three days of camp. This year, it wasn’t that interesting, but I did have two Patrick screaming fits to deal with, which are seriously embarrassing. We did the morning session this year, because Emma’s always tired in the afternoons, and I wanted her to be fresh for her close-ups.
That meant getting up and getting four children, including a breastfeeder, fed, dressed, combed and hooked into carseats by 8:45 AM. I’m getting good at this! The drama camp session this year was Curious George, and Emma was cast as one of the lost puppies. My in-laws came in on Thursday afternoon, and were able to make it to the performance on Thursday night. It was lots of fun. Afterward, we went to the restaurant across the street from the theatre for dinner, and Emma and Patrick had what can only be described as a chocolate milk fight. They were both covered in it. Ah well, that’s why we have bleach.
After drama camp, we had Johnny’s Baptism. His godparents live in Atlanta and couldn’t make the trip, so we had proxies stand in for them. My dear friend Emily (Faith Formation Director at our Church) stood in as proxy godmother, and our friend Jason (The Mad Scotsman) stood in as proxy godfather. Jason wore a kilt. I think he wore underwear, but one never knows – it’s not polite to look under a Scotsman’s kilt. Patrick was teasing Jason about wearing a skirt, and I tried to explain that Jason was dressed as a warrior. Although, let’s face it – it’s hard to explain the difference between a skirt and Scottish battle dress to a four-year-old who clearly sees a man in a skirt. The high heels didn’t help, either.
The day after the Baptism, we had Patrick’s birthday party, complete with a giant moonwalk. It cost a pretty penny, but both Tom and I would have loved to have one when we were little, so we gave him a treat. He got lots of presents, and was quite content with the whole affair.
Finally, yesterday, we went to the 4th of July party at our friend Mary and Bill Sears’ house. It was lots of fun. We left around 8:45, got the kids to bed, and basically conked out ourselves. No fireworks for us.
Today is the 5th, and I am planning to take the next few days easy, but I don’t think it will happen. There are always meals to cook, hineys to wipe, baths to give, and children to hug. Plus, I have to bring snacks to soccer practice tonight, and they’re coming to finish up some punchlist items on the house this week. I swear, it never ends. But I wouldn’t trade my life for the world. A wonderful husband, four adorable (if a bit bratty) children, and nice house in a great neighborhood, lots of friends, and a family that loves me. What more could I possibly want?