After the arrival of our youngest, we found ourselves at a wedding, and upon reaching the hotel post-reception, we discovered that all three of our kids—our 6-year-old, 3-year-old, and newborn—were sound asleep. “What’s the plan?” I whispered into the dim light. Previously, as a family of four, each child would have been carried to bed by one of us. But now, faced with this new reality, we were left pondering how to transport all of them inside without waking anyone or leaving one behind. The answer was simple: we couldn’t. So, we gently nudged our eldest awake, hoping she’d be the easiest to rouse. “Rise and shine, sweetheart. We need your help walking.”
This scenario is just a glimpse into our transformed life, which has turned out to be less daunting than I anticipated. I had concerns about those afternoons when I would be home alone with all three kids, yet my older children became even better playmates, while the baby was content to observe from the floor. I also fretted over how school pickups might throw off the infant’s nap schedule, only to discover that third children, like mine, tend to go with the flow.
However, our home is anything but serene. We live in close quarters with our five-member family, along with two aging dogs—one of whom, a Pomeranian mix, is on a diuretic for a heart condition. Our worry about her sneaky bathroom habits keeps us on high alert.
There are frequent debates over the purpose of their carefully constructed forts, which consist of blankets, stuffed animals, and anything else they can grab, sprawled out on the living room floor—definitely a tripping hazard and a cleaning nightmare.
And then there’s the chaotic family hub: my trusty Subaru Outback. When I announced my pregnancy, many asked if we’d upgrade our vehicle, but I was adamant. We would stick with our Prius, which my husband parks for free at work thanks to a city hybrid perk, and we’d fit all three kids into the back of the Subaru for a few more years. We even had to purchase a narrow model car seat for my 3-year-old son to squeeze in alongside a booster seat and an infant car seat. It was snug, to say the least. Getting my 6-year-old settled required me to maneuver her booster seat aside, fumble for the latch in the upholstery, and secure her in—all while enduring freezing Connecticut evenings after swim classes and the urgent pleas to close the door.
Many people steer clear of vehicles with a third row, but I proudly resisted the minivan trend. It wasn’t about the stigma of being uncool; I wanted to show that we could thrive under challenging circumstances. We had expanded our family beyond two children, made the most of our modest home, and I wanted to avoid the third-row option, too.
But that kind of challenge quickly lost its charm. My Subaru—once my beloved vehicle known for its manual transmission and rugged handling—had become a source of stress. Nothing was more exhausting than driving with all three kids. I’d shift into second gear while glancing in the rearview mirror, spotting my son with a finger in his nose, only to see him affectionately stroking the baby’s face at the next light. My daughter would be contorting herself at a precarious angle to join the fun. One child was laughing, another crying, and yet another singing a lullaby. The cacophony echoed just behind me, making me wonder how using a phone while driving could possibly be more dangerous than this chaotic scene.
By the time our youngest reached 5 months, I was ready to explore minivan options. We quickly made the leap to a Honda Odyssey, trading in my beloved Outback. While I’m not a fan of its appearance, I adore its functionality. The sliding doors open with the push of a button, and once everyone is safely inside, we can close them up, turn up the heat, and settle in. There’s even enough room for a cooler! On road trips, our dogs can ride comfortably instead of squeezing into whatever space remains.
Yet, adjusting to this change was still a process. On the day we brought the minivan home, I reflected on my age—37—and the challenge of maturing while staying true to my youthful ideals. At 17, I envisioned myself changing the world. I still aspire to that, but I also find myself genuinely wanting a minivan.
In the “mini,” as I affectionately call it, I navigate differently. I sit comfortably in the spacious driver’s seat, no longer needing to constantly check mirrors due to the setup that minimizes mischief. It’s a smooth ride that feels just right for this chapter of my life. I’m slowly but surely acclimating to this new experience.
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In summary, embracing the minivan has been a significant adjustment, but it’s one that’s made life with three kids more manageable. The challenges I once feared have turned into manageable experiences, and I’m learning to thrive in this new normal.