I get these looks often when I am out and about in my mini-van. People make all kinds of assumptions because I drive a mini-van, am followed by three little children and am usually wearing sweats. Other non mini-van driving moms are sometimes the worst. It doesn't bother me. I am not defined by my car. Would I like to drive something else? Sure. Maybe in a couple of years, or when Gloppy out grows this we'll be ready for something different. But right now, it works for us.
I can push a button and the side doors slide open, the kids climb in unassisted and the older two buckle themselves. When I'm in the car line at school, I can open the door from the drivers seat and don't have to worry about anyone smashing their little fingers shutting the door themselves. On a recent trip to the snow we fit all three kids, me, Mr. Mint, Grandma Nutt and all our gear in the van with no problem. I don't have to perform yoga moves to get all the kids strapped in when we have a play date. The girls can easily change into their ballet clothes in the back seat. If we want to go somewhere for a bike ride, we can fit all three kids and their bikes in the van with room to spare. I even carry a potty that can be used rather discreetly in my mini-van.
So go ahead and roll your eyes at me when I'm driving too slow or have to pull over to hand someone their snack. What you don't see is that we listen to everything from Chris Brown to Laurie Berkner to NPR in our van. I read books while I'm waiting for my kids. I have interesting conversations with interesting people (some of whom drive mini-vans). Being a mom is the largest piece of who I am right now, but it's not the only piece. I'm proud of the young people I am creating. And I am not embarrassed by our transportation that screams MOM.
Until my mini-van days are over, I'll just put on one of these and hold my head high.