The ugly truth of offsetting your offspring

When I was pg with twins, I think the most common comment I got was, "you're going to have to get a minivan," usually followed by a chuckle (not mine). It may have been the sheer oppositional defiant disorder in me that made me not do it - not get a minivan, or even a bigger car. It took a lot of doing, and a lot of different trial carseat combos, but I did it - I got three kids in the back of a Honda Civic for two years. Even rear-facing! I am very very very proud of this. No one seems to give this accomplishment the respect it deserves, so now I am proud to the point of having a chip on my shoulder, like I don't understand why I wasn't the subject of a local human interest story on the news or someone didn't give me a medal or something. Okay, so I crammed the little fuckers in there like sardines, hoped I wouldn't smash their fingers every time I shut the doors, bungey corded the trunk down every time we needed to take the double stroller plus anything else with us, and never ever thought about a collision with an Escalade. Getting the carseats in there was truly a grueling feat, so any time one of them had to be removed and subsequently reinstalled was a loathsome occassion indeed. Although I loved the Civic, the great MPG, the golf-cart engine, and the fact that I was proving to the world that big family doesn't have to mean big car, I must admit I was growing tired of what a PITA it was on a daily basis getting them in and out of there, especically having to unbuckle S-phie, who had to ride in an actual carseat to get the 3 across, but is too spastic to get herself out of a carseat (no Houdini). Cut to the chase: - no wait, first a moment of silence, for the Civic . . . Yes, I traded in my beloved little Civic for a bigass Odyssey. It's such a blow, on so many levels.

One: it's just not environmentally friendly - it's a gas hog. Now, granted, when I've got it packed to its maximum capacity of 7, then it's a good deal - mini mass transit, if you will (the first time H-nry rode in it, he repeated over and over, for the twenty minute ride, "Bus . . . bus. . . bus. . . bus. . . bus. . . "). In the past few months, I have been doing some sort of unconcious offset nesting. I really had written off getting a bigger car, it was not on my concscious mind, but I started going green like crazy: flourescent bulbs, turned up the thermostat, stopped washing in hot water, started saving grey water, started harvesting rainwater, started nagging J-sh to compost again, started buying soap and shampoo that don't have petro, and only changed the kids' disposable diapers when they were actually leaking or sagging to the floor. When we got the van, J-sh was like, is all of this green shit about the car? I don't know if it is, but probably, you know, trying to offset the crappy gas mileage. Which, I might add, is a totatlly legit concept in environmental law - offsetting. But the sad thing about getting the Minivan is that I realized that I really do need a bigger car, and the reason I need a bigger car is b/c I have so many kids, and that there is nothing worse for the environment than having kids. But, afterall, I am foremost an overpopulator and only somewhat of an environmentalist, so I did not kill the children or even stop wanting to have more of them upon this realization. And aside from being an overpopulator foremost, I was always a socialist before an environmentalist, and this country needs more lefties - we're being outbred by the right at an alarming rate (even USA Today knows it) and so what does it matter if the earth is green if it's ruled by a bunch of kids who went to Jesus Camp? But, alas, I will try to offset their environmental impact - call it the Overpopulator's Dilemma. I promise if I have another baby I will use cloth diapers and wash them in cold water w/a non-phospate, no petroleum soap.

Okay, the second thing about the minivan, the pain of it is, I am so embarrassed to admit, but it's the image thing. If I weren't utterly pathetic I wouldn't give a shit, but the cultural icon of the soccer mom is a strong one. Luckily, when I drove the "bus" off the lot, I had Elephant with me, and blasted it, and it made me feel a little better, but I am going to have to do more to offset the image. To demythologize the minvan mom. Here are some ideas I've had for the offset

1. Get a personalized plate: PSSYPTRL (I'm not even sure what Pussy Patrol is, but I know that when my friend worked at Walmart and she made a sticker w/the label maker that said this and wore it under a little flap on her nametag that had her real name, it really made her feel better). Maybe I'll even start a gang w/other minivan moms: The Pussy Patrol.

2. Drive around smoking a joint. Maybe even hotbox w/some members of the Pussy Patrol.

3. Play some mailbox baseball w/fellow gang members after engaging in number 2.

3. Have hot sex on the reclined 60/40 with another minvan driving mom. Perhaps as an initation to my gang.

4. Install a giant "system," and drive around blasting NWA's "Fuck the Police."

I can think of other offset ideas, all equally stupid, but I'm so exicted now about the idea of the Pussy Patrol and the gang of like-minded moms who will also shed the chains of the minivan mom image and engage in vicious culture wars with minivan moms sporting the sign of the fish and those little people that represent their families. OMG, I love my minivan.