Ode to a Minivan or My Odyssey to the Odyssey

After months, probably even years of resisting, the Honda Odyssey won me over. I barely even know how it happened. The minivan is a patient seducer. It really doesn't have to be assertive with its positive qualities, life will present you with enough experiences that you will begin to notice a minivan's functional beauty.

I was staunchly anti-minivan. I didn't feel superior to minivan owners, I just never grew up in a family wagon kind of house. As a child, I asked my father if we could get a station wagon. His response was quick and to the point, "No. I don't drive station wagons." I was small and didn't realize that as an only child, a station wagon was probably not all that essential. Furthermore, I had no idea that riding around in the leather clad comfort of Daddy's blue Cadillac Coupe de Ville was living the high life. I just thought that station wagons were neat. I mean, you could ride facing backward if you sat in the trunk area. I felt a certain solidarity with my old man when rejecting the early incarnations of minivans. When Carter first asked for a minivan, I told him what his Papa had said to me about station wagons, then added "Mama doesn't drive minivans."

Besides taking a cue from my dad, I never favored regular vans. They call them "conversion" vans. I have never discovered what they were converted from or to. These vehicles were a status symbol when I was in elementary school. I, however, found riding in them around the curves and hills of Eastern Kentucky mostly nauseating. They were dark and usually came with questionable art decorating the side. By using deductive reasoning I concluded that a mini version wouldn't be any better.

At some point in college, SUVs grew to prominence and I jumped on that bandwagon and held on tight. I liked what driving around in my Pathfinder said about me. This young woman is cool. She is au courant. If she had a black lab in the back, she'd even be a cliche. Unfortunately now, the SUV says gas guzzling idiot. And as my Pathfinder became older and older, and I was forced to realize a replacement was imminent; I looked at every option but a minivan. Highlander Hybrids. Pilots. Anything. Please anything but a minivan.

I was running scared. I knew minivan mom was inevitable but like Jonah ran from Ninevah and from God, I ran from the minivan. But, God has a funny way of curing a person of pride and vanity. My attitude shift honetly began when Nathan started looking for a new car for himself. We were test-driving a nice little European sedan and dropped in on our pastor who was recovering from knee surgery. He was convivial as always as we discussed vehicle selection and purchasing. I mentioned that I didn't really care what we got but no minivan. In his affable way, he asked "Can I ask you why it is you don't like minivans?" I was honest. I smiled and said, with no shame nor remorse, "vanity." His great, robust laughter supported his strong arm around my shoulders and he replied "oh, so you know it's pride!" It was in humor but it was potent.

He made me put a name on my attitude and as a result the scales fell from my eyes. First, it was the doors. On both sides, the doors slide back and without any effort. That sounds like laziness, but if you are trying to corral two boys in a parking lot with a cart full of groceries, it seems like your safest bet. The door opening is wide and I'm sure Little Will is going to appreciate not getting his head konked every third time I put him in his car seat.

The next thing was the amazing amount of room an Odyssey can create out of seemingly nowhere. A flip of a few switches and a tuck here and there and VOILA, you have no back row but an acre of cargo space. More space than the Pathfinder. My friend Kathy told me that if it's raining, she doesn't even bother to collapse the stroller, she just puts it in the back ready to roll! I was truly amazed. Again, that sounds like laziness but it's not. I don't know what it is, but it's not laziness.

Nathan's brother's both bought Odysseys for their families and my sisters- in- law raved about them. They talked about rear entertainment systems and headphones and sanity. Sanity? Really? Sanity? I am up for anything that brings sanity. I can use all of that stuff I can get. My friend Emily told me to just drink the minivan laced Kool-aid and forget all my reservations. She told me that I would never regret it.

After not being able to safely carpool Carter's friends because there was just no space in my SUV, I acquiesced. I want to be able to be helpful to friends. I want to be able to bring Carter's friends home with us sometimes. I wan to offer rides to church. I want Mimi and Papa to be able to ride in the same car with us when they visit and we go out together.

The last straw that broke my camel's back was my cousin. She listened sweetly and agreed to all my objections and even nodded to how it could actually be good to have one. She finally said, "it's not like you'd have to drive one forever. Your kids are only young for a little while and they get more and more involved in activities, so you're gonna need the space. And these aren't really like the old square boxes of bench seating. These new vans are luxurious and for all intents and purposes - rolling entertainment centers." She was mourning the loss of her own SUV and as they say, misery loves company. She was right, though. Leather interior. DVD player. Remote control doors. Satellite radio. Back-up cameras. All my defenses were down and I admitted to my husband that I'd been eyeing Odysseys as I drove around town. He laughed and agreed it was probably the best for our whole family.

Saturday, June 28, 2008, I became the proud owner of a blue, Honda Odyssey EX-L. It's almost the same color as my dad's first Cadillac. And now for it's best feature: I'm taking my dvd of Pride and Prejudice, a coca-cola, and a pillow out to the van, locking the doors, and enjoying the solitude. I was thinking of naming it Homer, but that name seemed too obvious and vapid. So, I'm thinking Penelope after Odysseus' wife. The minivan is surely a woman anyway, for she carries children around in her belly, she entertains them, and keeps them safe while showing them the world. But most importantly, she has the ability to hold their 15 cups.

How to Enjoy Your Kids

For a week, I have visited this page in vain. There was nothing worthwhile to write about. No one wants to hear about how many times Carter needed punishment nor how often Will whined. Our family has been having personality problems. Not just the little ones, but we big ones were acting out, too. It's amazing how little things add up and effect everyone in the house.

Carter repeatedly broke the rules and would justify himself by blaming us. He never quite grabbed on to the concept of accepting one's responsibility for one's actions. Mimi and Papa came to visit and Carter even blamed them for his sinful forays. He secretly took gum from Mimi's purse and left a pile of wrappers hidden in a corner. He snatched a bag of Teddy Grahams. And on and on. I couldn't remember the last day he hadn't been seriously disciplined.

Meanwhile, Will was causing his own brand of chaos. He has a painfully shrill shriek that emanates when anything does not measure up to his expectations. And trust me when I report that 80% of the day was not meeting his perceived needs. He would have moments of sweetness, of cuddling, and giggling, and saying incredible new words. But mostly, it was anger, shrieking, and dramatic episodes of flopping on the floor and burring his head under his hands.

The question is how does God give you patience? I've learned not to ask for it because the way to get it is kind of like the way of getting a baby. Through a lot of personal pain; there's a reason the phrase "the patience of Job" is so potent. Yet, I believe God was preparing us for something. I am secretly hoping that these last weeks have been a substitution for cranky teenage years. But, I know better. Maybe they are a foreshadowing, instead. I'm not sure. Nathan and I began with a calm approach, which turned into mild aggravation, then on to a simmering boil, and finally, bewildered numbness. We were out of ideas. Out of energy. And in the catatonic, 100 yard stare a still, small voice came to me. It's my fault. Well, not completely. But I had to take responsibility for my actions, too.

I started thinking why would Carter take foods out of the pantry? When we asked him he would just say "It's just so hard not to." For some reason, it hadn't hit me that if I feed him enough, he might not even think about what food was hanging around. He's growing a lot right now. He probably needs more food. And coincidentally, so is Will. I fed them a lot on Friday and even Nathan commented on how much food Will was eating. But he had to admit that both of them were in better moods and Carter didn't snitch any.

Another reason the boys might be acting out is they want our attention. So, we took them to the drive-in movie on Friday night. They loved it. Well, mostly Carter did. They both fell asleep in the back of the SUV cuddled up to each other, Carter with his arm over Will. I would have taken a picture but I was not anxious for a flash to wake them.

And the last reason, I figured out Saturday when none of us got a good night's sleep after being out at the drive in. Growing boys need more sleep. These growing boys aren't big on sleep. They might miss something fun and interesting. After a fun visit from Uncle Prentiss, Carter and Will both reached meltdown status. I forced them both to lie down with me for no less than 20 minutes. Will was out and actually drooling onto the pillow in two minutes flat. Carter took longer, but only about 8 minutes. He continued to sleep for 13 hours. Will woke up for about an hour and then went right back to bed. Everyone woke this morning with songs in our hearts. I heard Carter singing "If you're happy and you know it." I heard Nathan laughing with joy. I heard Will giggling in delight. It was nice to have my sweet boys back.

But hold on to your seats! There's more! Will fell asleep on the way home from church. Carter helped me finish up dinner preparation. The three of us ate together and Carter talked in a happy, charming way the whole time. He couldn't eat much because he talked so much. Nathan and I were enchanted once again. After the meal, the rest of us took a nap. Yes, Carter slept even more. Everyone slept some more. Everyone woke up with dancing this time. I purchased a new song for Carter on itunes and he, Will, and Nathan danced all around the living room.

In Sunday School this morning, we discussed suffering. One point was made that how can we truly enjoy and appreciate blessings without also knowing the experience of affliction. I don't know that I would necessarily call Carter's and Will's recent behavior afflictions, but they are more toward that end of the spectrum than the blessing. Which actually turns it into blessing; a blessing because after plunging to the depths, we have been lifted up to a new height.

I have taken solace over the last couple of weeks in gazing upon my hydrangea bush that Nathan gave me as an anniversary gift a few years ago. It is breathtaking this year. Full and colorful orbs of flowers, bowing the branches with their weight. Some clusters are blue, others are purplish, and a few even have a bit of pink. However, last year a late frost killed off the buds and not one single bloom emerged. It was just a green, leafy bush. Nothing to really enjoy. It was just sort of there. This year, I took no chances. When there was even a chance of a frost in late April and May, I covered them with my bedsheets. I wonder if I would have really appreciated the more than 20 blooms this year in the same euphoric way, if there hadn't been any last year.

Some Enchanted Evening

We needed to get out of the house and have some adventure. I, personally, needed to stimulate the economy. The boys needed to get out of their pattern of disobedience. I felt like a day shopping would provide just what we needed. I engaged the services of one very capable Mimi and optimistically looked to the coming day on the town.

First, Mimi kept the boys while I dropped by a clothing party. My good feelings continued as I tried on a lovely pair of pants that were too big and the consultant said, "Uhm, you're gonna need a 6 in that." I looked at her with a mixture of mistrust and elation. Strange combination, I know. But part of me felt like I was on candid camera and waiting for the hidden lenses to be shown and the other part of me just wanted to hug her. Once I got the size 6 pair on and they actually fit, I said "You realize I MUST buy these now. I will buy them and leave the tag sticking out for all to see." Everyone thought I was hilarious and I wondered how much they would laugh when I saw them at church, pants on, tag out.

The good feeling were short lived because upon my return, I found a box of Poptarts that had been on the very top shelf of the pantry, behind the couch with one missing. Some Poptarts are okay for Will; these were not. My mother-in-law felt bad that it was on her watch, but she shouldn't. He's really good at being sneaky. I called his dad who said he was immediately pedaling home. He was angry and said he was glad he would get the physical exertion to quell his wrath. All I could think was the bicycle riding music in "The Wizard of Oz." That tune of approaching, imminent doom. Carter was forced to sit on the naught step during the entire interim. Mimi and Will played outside and tried to stay out of the way. Once Nathan was home, more Phase 1 and Phase 2. But a new phase. This time he had to write sentences over and over. Just like old fashion elementary school punishment. Carter said he thought it sounded kind of fun.

Once this was all settled and I told Carter, "I hoped that today would be different. That you wouldn't do anything to get into trouble." He said, as only he could, "Well, maybe the rest of the day will be different!"

And it was different. I stimulated the economy as much as I could. If the day had only been longer! Mimi is so good at keeping the boys wrangled. It helps to have experience herding cats and I think she's herded a few in her day. The boys were sometimes loud. But boys are loud. And sometimes they were a bit unruly. But why would a boy enjoy Macy's? There is no reason for him to. Now, Lowe's is more up their alley. Though they were tired, there was really not much whining and it was actually enjoyable.

We returned home with goodies spilling out the doors. Normally, I'm not a spender. I get horrible bouts of buyers remorse. Not yesterday. Everything was essential. Plus Mimi is a wonderful enabler. There's one phrase that gets me every time: "You can always return it." These purchases were necessary and long over due.

Since Will feel asleep, exhausted from our day, we quietly unloaded it and gingerly laid him down in a cool bed. I placed the new chair cushions in the patio furniture our neighbors no longer wanted (these are nnnnice and they are crazy to get rid of them!). The cushions fit just right. Ahhhh. The new pants fit just right. Ahhhh. Nathan's new clothes were going to be great. The wedding gift was going to be just right. Ahhh. I love the feeling of accomplishment.

Finally, as the sun was gone and its light was fading, I dragged Nathan outside to sit in the new chairs. The heat from the day had disapated and the boys sweetly crawled up into the loveseat, cuddled up right next to me. The soft smell of honeysuckle floated around us. It was truly lovely. Then, I saw them. Lightning bugs began to rise, flickering their green tails. Carter and I leapt up and tried to catch them. There's some more over there and over there. I told him that when you see the first fireflies, that means summer is almost here. I retrieved a Mason jar from the kitchen to contain the ones we could catch.

I was transported back; I was only 5, running around, jumping, and grabbing at the air. We were all barefoot and it was almost completely night. Carter commented on how they were so hard to catch because it was so dark. I marveled at how I caught so many as a child. The night crept over and the street lights were all we had to see by. We kept our eyes peeled for rising fireflies. Once a group was spotted, we would run in attack. This went on for a long while, until it was well past time for bed. It was an enchanted twilight.

Idle Hands are the Devils Playthings

Yesterday at lunch, Carter was so charming and wonderful, Nathan pulled out the video recorder to capture his lectures on healthy living. He had been exercising, asked specifically for spinach to be like "Pie-o" (that's Popeye to you and me) and wanted to drink water because its so good for you. We talked about how cheese was good for his bones and cooked tomatoes are good for the heart. He, then, said "You know what's even better for the heart?" I really thought he was going to say God, but to my surprise, he stood up and gave me a hug and kiss. That was good for my heart. As Nathan rolled in for lunch, Carter was still midst his discussion on exercise and how sometimes he even makes up new exercises all by himself. Nathan and I were both proud and enchanted by our son.

Will, meanwhile, was sleeping and sleeping. He took a monster nap which must mean he's growing something. Probably his feet. This kid's feet seem so huge to me. Carter's feet were and are wide, but Will's feet seem to grow exponentially daily. Maybe they just look big because he's so skinny. So, Will woke up long after Carter's new commitment to healthy living. He had to be hungry because he hadn't eaten anything at all since breakfast, so I fixed for him a soynut butter and jelly sandwich. Carter retreated to his room where he produced sounds of a boy at play. I chose this time to download some sermons on the computer. I walked into the living room several times to check on progress; Will was slowly consuming his sandwich and Carter was in and out. Nothing seemed awry.

I called Nathan to talk about a walk to the grocery and supper menu. He was on his way home soon, so I finished up the downloading and began picking up the toys strewn across the floor. That's when I heard it. Will coughed. Carter was standing there in front of me and Will was upstairs and I heard the distinctive pre-regurgitation cough. I spun around and demanded from Carter "WHAT IS HE EATING?" The shock on Carter's face was instant. He stood dumbfounded. Again, in a loud, stern voice, I commanded "TELL ME! DID YOU GIVE YOUR BROTHER SOMETHING TO EAT?!" He stuttered and acted like he was thinking. I quickly and succinctly reminded him that Will can't eat just anything. I was hoping behind all my bravado that Will just coughed because he needed to cough. Realizing that the punishment he would receive was small in comparison to his brother's life, he took me upstairs and showed me the card of Santa Claus cupcake decorations. I don't know where these came from. I had never seen them before, but the card was empty. I would never buy them because I don't like little, colored bits of hardened sugar, so I'm not sure how these got into our house. I immediately looked for the ingredients and was alarmed to find that these are not just sugar, they are egg whites and sugar. Will is allergic to eggs.

I scooped Will up and he was not acting disturbed but demonstrated that something wasn't right in his mouth. I could see a splotch or two and grabbed the Benadryl. I knew he was going to throw it up, but it wouldn't hurt anything. And it might just help. Will loves the benadryl, so it was no trouble getting him to take the medicine. In a matter of minutes the 2 - 3 splotches were gone but I knew he was still going to throw up. That made me upset on several levels. First, he hadn't had much to eat and I knew his entire lunch was about to go. This also meant that we couldn't feed him too much afterwards because his tummy might be sensitive for awhile. Daily, I worry about getting enough fat into Will's diet despite the allergy restrictions. Second, it would have to be cleaned up and vomit is not fun to clean up. And thirdly, Will was going to be momentarily uncomfortable. Strangely, he was beginning to act normally. Maybe he wouldn't throw up after all.

Nathan arrived home about this time and I apprised him of the situation. He was livid. He bounded upstairs with Carter and discovered the hidden cache of candy our thieving son had stockpiled in and around his room. One of the items was perplexing: it had been on top of the refrigerator. How had he gotten that? Nathan required that he explain. Carter took him to the kitchen and demonstrated how he figured out how to climb up the drawer handles, onto the counter, to reach the top of the fridge. Nathan and I were overcome by shock, sadness, and dismay. He clearly knew he was doing something wrong because he was hiding it. He was sophisticated enough to ask for a treat occasionally to keep up the appearance that he was following the rules. Nathan called him a chocoholic kleptomaniac. Our son is a criminal.

That is when we began the lecturing phase of our punishment. Carter received a full and vivid description of the implications of his actions. The theft. The lying. The disobedience. The poisoning of the brother. He appeared to be duly sad and cried and prayed for God and us to forgive him and help him to control his evil ways. As we were transitioning into the corporal punishment phase, Will threw up. Carter was put on hold as the living room was cleaned up and hosed down. It took forever. As we shifted our attention back to the perp, Will threw up again. I had told Nathan he would throw up twice. He did. We took Will to the bathtub and Carter followed where he would receive phase two punishment. He did not take it willingly but got it and then took a bath as well. We then entered phase three, solitary confinement. He was escorted to his cell, uhm, room and Nathan and I began gathering the stockpile and putting away toys. The unfortunate thing is that as we cleaned Will's room, we found MORE! It was an open chocolate bar that had been processed in a plant that also processes nuts. Thus Nathan lectured more about Carter's greed, deception, and carelessness.

The villain was confined to his room for the rest of the night. I didn't feel so badly that he didn't get any supper because I got the feeling he'd already eaten enough candy to carry him through. Will cleared up quickly and assertively expressed his desire for more food. After some allergy free chicken, teeth were brushed by the head warden, and lights were turned out.

I feel like a failure. I have let down my two sons. Nathan tried to assure me that Carter is sneaky and not to be trusted. Our house was purged of everything candy-like. That's probably for the best anyway. I should have noticed that cookies and candies were disappearing. I should have recognized that when Carter was caught sneaking food at his Mimi and Papa's, he was probably doing it at home. I wonder if there is some kind of ankle-shackle-monitoring system I can attach to him. He'd probably just outsmart it. I tried to figure out how to take these qualities and hone them into something positive. The only suggestion Nathan offered was "Well, if we ever need someone to help us stockpile food...." Clearly, he didn't understand me.

Though neither of us felt like Carter was duly remorseful, we hoped it was because of his youthful optimism; he wanted to move forward. Unfortunately, we just caught him again. We put Will's Poptarts on the refrigerator and Carter climbed up and stole them. He is currently in Phase 3 again, after having an abbreviated Phase 1 and an multiplied Phase 2. I'm exhausted and need to go into Phase 3 myself. Alas, the loud crying from Phase 2 woke up Will. I expressed how confounded I was because I have tried to stay in the same room with the boys all day. I lapsed into house cleaning duty and that must be when it happened. Nathan says it's not my fault, but I can't help but believe it partially is. This is my job and these little souls are my responsibility.

The one tricky part of parenting is that it seems to be constant on the job training. There is no operations manual, but how could there ever be? No two children are alike. Separate situations rarely match up. There are few typical days. Some days are like vacation. Some days are like war. A lot of days are somewhere in between with varying degrees of peace and tension. I am starting to understand why Nathan and his brothers moved rocks around the yard for a couple of hours every morning.