Being one with the minivan. Embrace it. Own it. Best if you reverse park it…

When I sat down to type my musings, I was totally channelling my inner Carrie Bradshaw. Of course, my musings
are less about ‘Sex and the City’ and more about ‘Kids and the Gritty’! 

Don’t get me wrong there is still sometimes sex - I mean you don’t get 4 children without it, but the sex these days
is far more succinct, efficient, and scheduled. It's also all with the same guy and usually in between various
parental duties - we're busy!

Also, I don't wear heels. Like ever. Clearly not that many parallels these days and I am sure Carrie would never
have been caught dead in a minivan...unless, maybe if she had a litter of children and moved to the suburbs,
joined parent committees and coveted Tupperware then sure, a minivan she would drive. 

However, my life is now far more entertaining than hers I'm sure, so strap in and get ready to delight in the
musings. It starts with the minivan...

It is like a little house on wheels. I can all but stand and dance around in the back of it! I can certainly put on raincoats,
shoes, and tie laces. Even though I did do all of that in our actual house - somewhere between the house and the
destination, they came off, undone, lost. Funny that.

I wonder at what age I decided a minivan was cool? For the record, it is cool. Pretty sure as a kid I really wanted a
Lamborghini, a red, fast one. But I bet those Lamborghinis have no leg room and forget putting on a raincoat
or even fixing your wedgie. Pfft.

So, a minivan it is. And a minivan mum I became. And we fill it. That magic bus of 8 seats is usually full up. If
not with bottoms than with stuff. Karate stuff, dance stuff, soccer stuff, instruments, craft stuff, swimming stuff,
netball stuff, a lone cold Maccas french fry on the floor or under the booster seats, basketball stuff, footy stuff,
endless green shopping bags that I never remember to take out of the minivan... a lot of stuff.

Some days when we arrive at school drop off, I feel like it is a clown car of never-ending humans piling out.
When we are invited to birthday parties we can often be met with cries of "here they are, rent a crowd!"

And to be honest, I've always been the "minivan, Tupperware loving, wet wipes on hand" type of mum. And
I do love it. I laugh at it, I absolutely groan at it, but I also soak up all the joys that come along with it.

So come and read the commentary of this wonderful, wacky, and weird world just as I see it. We are real,
human, and we are making it all up as we go along.

There's me, the Minivan Mum, Husband aka Fun Daddy, who, let's be honest could win best supporting actor
in this TV drama. He is amazing and offers great comic relief at times, goes where I tell him and picks up and
drops off to schedule. But make no mistake I am the lead, the director, the caterer, the cleaner and the publicist
in this production, masterfully and sometimes hopelessly juggling many, many, many balls.

And our children, let's call them: ONE, TWO, THREE & FOUR, (I mix up their names most days anyway). Yep. Four.
Four beautiful people that were at the very beginning our pleasure, wink, wink. Girl, boy, girl, boy. Just as we planned.
Because of course you can plan that.

They are all at school now and I am attempting to work full time, volunteer on my kid's P&C committees and be
involved in their sports clubs where I can. And I can do that right? We are mothers, we are women, hear us roar,
she types whilst rocking in the fetal position and considering a morning mimosa. 

I am busy, I am noisy, I am loved up, I try really hard, and I have a very important job to do - raising our tribe.
It comes with some laughs and false starts along the way. Stuff too good not to share.