We are now the proud owners of a minivan. I've never wanted a minivan; James couldn't wait to get one. But with the addition of a third child, we will officially outgrow our lovely little Honda Civic.
The story began with my parents' moving to Australia, and their generous offer to give us their van. All was in line until the week before we were to get it - when two or three major problems suddenly cropped up. A quick trip to the mechanic revealed possibly $2500 in repairs. They bought the van second-hand last year for only $5500, and it was likely only worth about $2500 - $3500 now. We decided that instead of fixing it, we would use the van for a trade-in, hoping to get a little more for it by using it toward the purchase of another van, rather than asking for cash.
James is a true-blue foreign car man (yes, even though he used to work for Chrysler!). His immediate choice was the Honda Odessey. Our initial research narrowed the field to that and the Toyota Sienna, both which offer essentially the same quality for around the same price (significantly higher than the domestic cars, to be sure).
Discouraged by trying to shop dealers for used cars, and finding that they usually only had one or two choices in stock, I stumbled upon a company that specialized in minivans, specifically Hondas and Toyotas. The allure of not having to drive from store to store made the decision to go there easy.
By the time my Dad and I (James was at work) made the initial tour of the lot, we had narrowed it to the Toyota, Honda and the Montana (which offered fully loaded models for about $5000 less, being that it is a domestic make). We test drove all three - well, my Dad drove them. I would have no idea of the little nuances to look for while driving, plus I'm terrified of driving a car that doesn't belong to me. All three drove well, which left the final decision up to me.
So of course my decision came down to one thing: which car was most "family-friendly". Which car could I see me and my kids getting in and out of hundreds of times, taking long road trips in, carting around kids, friends, and cargo. It was the Sienna hands down, for one feature - the handy way the middle seats flip down, leaving nearly two feet of space for me to climb into the back (to buckle car seats). I knew I would be doing the buckling for years to come, and once that seat flipped down it felt like an empty van with tons of room to move around! Plus, if need be, the back seats fold neatly down into the deep trunk space, which was perfect for groceries and bags and the like.
So I was nearly finished - there were about 10 Siennas there that fit my criteria and price range. I ended up going with a higher end model - not so much for the built-in DVD player as for the All-wheel-drive. We didn't see the pavement on our street for 6 months last year, and the added safety of AWD made the final decision.
Then came the part I was dreading - the bargaining. I'm the type of person that likes to just pay full price and forget the hassel and embarassment of wheeling and dealing. The price of the van was fairly fixed, after the initial $1000 they knocked off the price. Where we had some room was the value of the trade=in. Their mechanics looked over the car and so they knew there was something that needed fixing, and they fairly accurately guessed the problem. They offered much less than I was expecting. I was hoping that the trade-in would off-set the addition of taxes and fees, so that the end price would be what the sticker price of the van was. Well, I sat there and "stared" at the offered price, until finally the salesman inquired about what I was thinking. I told him what I had hoped, and he offered something much closer. I was happy with that, but he couldn't get that price cleared because it meant offering "too much" for the trade-in. The new price was slightly higher, but I could tell I had reached the final offering price. I finally shook hands and the deal was done.
While the salesman went away to finalize the paperwork, my Dad let a smile go and murmured to me: "You drive a hard bargain!" Together we realized that with the amount we got for the trade-in, added to the amount we knew the repairs would cost, I had gotten exactly what he had paid the year before for his van. Not bad at all!
And so I have my van. It's beautiful and functional and has some really nice bells and whistles (that are, admittedly, a little frivolous and unecessary, like auto chair positioning and the "Distance to Empty" gas guage (tells me how many km I have until the tank is empty), but it's kind of nice knowing James and I are entering the next phase of our life where we don't have to buy clunkers anymore. I have yet to figure out the DVD player - I'm wondering how long the boys will let me get away with "I don't know how it works..." but it's also a nice bonus to have for long car rides. Oh yeah - and the cordless headphones will surely be appreciated when they're watching their favourite movie for the umpteenth time!
I have only one caution about it all - wanting to make sure that I continue all the walking I do. The van will definitely be a blessing for those times when I was having to lug two (soon to be three) children around town on multiple buses, and for trips to the store that meant pushing a stroller and toting a cart behind, and for times when neither walking or the bus would do and I had to rely on rides from others (hard with three carseats!) but our fabulous house location means that much of what I need is within walking distance. I'm hoping to keep in shape by still doing a lot of moving around town on my own two feet, and making a commitment to keep to it.
Tuesday, 8 September 2009
Lazy days
The lack of motivation I feel lately is astounding, especially for me. I'm exhausted, and seem to be experiencing the first trimester nausea again. I'm just keeping up with basic housework, but the clutter seems to be building out of control. I've given up homemade bread - given up all baking, really. I'm even reading a run-of-the-mill fiction book; it claims to be "historical" fiction, but really is nothing more than a simply written romance at the turn of the 20th century. My "thinking books" lie untouched and slightly dusty on my night table. My journal writing here has become uninspired and only occasional recaps of daily events.
Colin begins school tomorrow, which will hopefully send me into a much more stable routine. After raving about the lazy days of summer, and enjoying the slower pace, I'm suddenly craving something, anything, that will get me up and going again.
I'm grateful for a "Christmas" due date - these last three and a half months should fly by with the amount of activities and events that build up this time of year. I've started band again, and the Christmas choir will begin in the next month or so. School starts tomorrow, and the weekly women's bible study I attend gets going in two weeks. Then there is Hallowe'en, Thanksgiving, and then straight into the Christmas season, replete with concerts and parties and dinners and celebrations. Before I know it our little baby will be here and then things will really be able to get back to normal.
In the meantime I will do my best to enjoy some outdoor time at the park, now that we finally have some decent summer weather here. With Colin at school (who is not such an outdoors kid), Caleb and I will be able to spend some quality time just the two of us in the great outdoors, which will be especially important before the baby arrives.
Well, I feel a little better now - even inspired to maybe write one more entry, about my experience in buying the van. I guess a little writer's purge is good medecine after all.
Colin begins school tomorrow, which will hopefully send me into a much more stable routine. After raving about the lazy days of summer, and enjoying the slower pace, I'm suddenly craving something, anything, that will get me up and going again.
I'm grateful for a "Christmas" due date - these last three and a half months should fly by with the amount of activities and events that build up this time of year. I've started band again, and the Christmas choir will begin in the next month or so. School starts tomorrow, and the weekly women's bible study I attend gets going in two weeks. Then there is Hallowe'en, Thanksgiving, and then straight into the Christmas season, replete with concerts and parties and dinners and celebrations. Before I know it our little baby will be here and then things will really be able to get back to normal.
In the meantime I will do my best to enjoy some outdoor time at the park, now that we finally have some decent summer weather here. With Colin at school (who is not such an outdoors kid), Caleb and I will be able to spend some quality time just the two of us in the great outdoors, which will be especially important before the baby arrives.
Well, I feel a little better now - even inspired to maybe write one more entry, about my experience in buying the van. I guess a little writer's purge is good medecine after all.
Thursday, 3 September 2009
Changes
Ah, the blog has been calling, but the distant echo has not been enough to draw me to write. The last week has brought on major pregnancy nausea again, plus exhaustion from trying to get some last minute home repairs done with my dad. I also bought a new van, and my parents are bunking with us while they wait for their cruise/emigration date at the end of the month. Add to that missing my naps and worsening insomnia - I guess it's no wonder that my creativity has run dry.
I hope to write about some of these changes (like the hard bargain I drove while negotiating for the van, and my parent's move to Australia, not to mention Colin starting school next week!), but I think it will have to wait a few more days...
All that being said, change is always good in my books. I have never feared when life has moved in a different direction, welcoming a new freshness to daily routine. So despite the tiredness at least I don't feel any stress in this all. In fact, I think the last few weeks, and the next couple, will buoy me up.
I hope to write about some of these changes (like the hard bargain I drove while negotiating for the van, and my parent's move to Australia, not to mention Colin starting school next week!), but I think it will have to wait a few more days...
All that being said, change is always good in my books. I have never feared when life has moved in a different direction, welcoming a new freshness to daily routine. So despite the tiredness at least I don't feel any stress in this all. In fact, I think the last few weeks, and the next couple, will buoy me up.
Wednesday, 26 August 2009
Calebites
Caleb constantly cracks us up with his expressions.
"I, too!" - for some reason he has adopted this expression in lieu of the more common "me too!"
"I do!" - when he hears something he wants, he lets us know he wants to be included.
"Yaah" - a drawn out, very Russian sounding "yes".
"No" - okay, this isn't original, but the firm, matter of fact way he has of saying it makes us laugh. It is part defiant and part laissez-faire. No is the answer and he's not going to fight with you.
"I, too!" - for some reason he has adopted this expression in lieu of the more common "me too!"
"I do!" - when he hears something he wants, he lets us know he wants to be included.
"Yaah" - a drawn out, very Russian sounding "yes".
"No" - okay, this isn't original, but the firm, matter of fact way he has of saying it makes us laugh. It is part defiant and part laissez-faire. No is the answer and he's not going to fight with you.
Bed shuffle
Last night we did a big bed shuffle in our home. Colin graduated from his toddler bed to his "new" bunk beds (new to him - my parents bought them for me when I was 2 years old!) and Caleb moved from crib to toddler bed. We had to talk Colin through the changes in his room; he wasn't really opposed to bunk beds, but has a really hard time when any routine is changed. Adding the bunk beds meant moving the dressers and toy box also, so everything was really different.
Caleb didn't seem to care. He imitated Colin's excitement, and was hyped up by all the busyness of the night. Both boys brought up their own tools to help put the beds together and then helped carry out the crib pieces.
Bedtime went really well. Caleb is always exhausted by bedtime, and so he lied down in his bed as if it was the crib and fell right asleep. James got Colin excited about the bunks, so Colin finally warmed up to the idea and fell asleep, too.
Surprisingly, I was the one who was not fine! I didn't see it coming at all, but when James and I finally turned out the light in our own bedroom, the waterworks opened up and I just started to bawl! All I could think of was what would happen if the top bunk collasped on my little boy sleeping in the bottom bunk below. The more I cried, the bigger the bunks seemed and the smaller and more fragile Colin seemed. I wept and wept, gulping for air, unable to control myself. I knew they were safe; I knew my dad and James would never let Colin sleep there if it wasn't completely, totally, and unequivocally safe. But it didn't help.
I cried for an hour, then lay awake reading for another two. I finally drifted off into a fitful sleep filled with nightmares (thankfully unrelated to the bunk bed issue, but horrifying nonetheless. Perhaps I have just discovered that my nightmares are related to heavy emotional moments in my life?) I hadn't even fallen asleep when I heard the first cries from Caleb. I peeked in his room to find he had flipped himself to the foot of the bed and was head first over his laundry basket. Caleb has always been big mover while he sleeps; I even put in the bumper pads in his crib because he used to get his wrists and ankles caught in the crib bars as a baby. I soothed him quickly and he dropped off right away. But he cried another three times that night, and Colin woke twice. It was hard over that hour or two, but after that we heard nothing more.
Morning dawned and found us all sleeping (yes, even me!). Caleb jumped out of bed when he woke and starting wiggling the door handle. (I knew he would likely do that; even once we moved Colin to his toddler bed, he always called for us to "get him out" when he woke up. I only broke that habit last month by telling him it was okay for him to get up by himself and come and find us.) When we heard Colin calling for us, we found him lying on the mattress we had put on the floor beside his bed. We don't know if he fell out or climbed out, but he seemed happy.
So we seem to have luck once again with the bed issue. I know this can often cause huge problems for so many kids, and so I count myself lucky we got away with this one. Heaven knows there are many other struggles I encounter raising my children, so I celebrate the small victories, especially when they take so little effort.
Caleb didn't seem to care. He imitated Colin's excitement, and was hyped up by all the busyness of the night. Both boys brought up their own tools to help put the beds together and then helped carry out the crib pieces.
Bedtime went really well. Caleb is always exhausted by bedtime, and so he lied down in his bed as if it was the crib and fell right asleep. James got Colin excited about the bunks, so Colin finally warmed up to the idea and fell asleep, too.
Surprisingly, I was the one who was not fine! I didn't see it coming at all, but when James and I finally turned out the light in our own bedroom, the waterworks opened up and I just started to bawl! All I could think of was what would happen if the top bunk collasped on my little boy sleeping in the bottom bunk below. The more I cried, the bigger the bunks seemed and the smaller and more fragile Colin seemed. I wept and wept, gulping for air, unable to control myself. I knew they were safe; I knew my dad and James would never let Colin sleep there if it wasn't completely, totally, and unequivocally safe. But it didn't help.
I cried for an hour, then lay awake reading for another two. I finally drifted off into a fitful sleep filled with nightmares (thankfully unrelated to the bunk bed issue, but horrifying nonetheless. Perhaps I have just discovered that my nightmares are related to heavy emotional moments in my life?) I hadn't even fallen asleep when I heard the first cries from Caleb. I peeked in his room to find he had flipped himself to the foot of the bed and was head first over his laundry basket. Caleb has always been big mover while he sleeps; I even put in the bumper pads in his crib because he used to get his wrists and ankles caught in the crib bars as a baby. I soothed him quickly and he dropped off right away. But he cried another three times that night, and Colin woke twice. It was hard over that hour or two, but after that we heard nothing more.
Morning dawned and found us all sleeping (yes, even me!). Caleb jumped out of bed when he woke and starting wiggling the door handle. (I knew he would likely do that; even once we moved Colin to his toddler bed, he always called for us to "get him out" when he woke up. I only broke that habit last month by telling him it was okay for him to get up by himself and come and find us.) When we heard Colin calling for us, we found him lying on the mattress we had put on the floor beside his bed. We don't know if he fell out or climbed out, but he seemed happy.
So we seem to have luck once again with the bed issue. I know this can often cause huge problems for so many kids, and so I count myself lucky we got away with this one. Heaven knows there are many other struggles I encounter raising my children, so I celebrate the small victories, especially when they take so little effort.
Thursday, 20 August 2009
Camp songs
On the two hour car ride back from my grandmother's house, my sister and I found a way to keep Colin entertained - we revisited the endless catalogue of camp songs from when we were kids. I'm not sure who had a better time - Colin or us! I also can't believe that we actually sang for a solid hour and a half, that we actually knew that many songs!
Colin also impressed his Auntie Jennifer with the number of songs he had already learned from me. As the camp song guru of my time, I felt a twinge of pride that I had a little protegee ready to able to step into my shoes.
Colin also impressed his Auntie Jennifer with the number of songs he had already learned from me. As the camp song guru of my time, I felt a twinge of pride that I had a little protegee ready to able to step into my shoes.
Saturday, 15 August 2009
Colinisms
I have noticed lately that Colin is very in tune with people around him. He picks up on emotions of others, joining in their elation and showing concern with their distress.
The other day at the play centre a boy about 2 years old was having a complete meltdown. Tears streamed down his cheeks, great deep sobs escaped his lips. Colin hovered nearby, clearly concerned about this young boy. After a few minutes, Colin approached him:
"Would you like to play with me? I can be your friend."
I don't even think the boy heard Colin through the crying. His mother continued to try and soothe him, but Colin didn't give up so easily. He hovered near the boy, offering now and then a favourite toy he thought might cheer him. Once or twice it even seemed Colin wanted to reach out and hug the boy. It was a good ten minutes before the boy calmed down enough to hear and then respond to Colin's invitation to join in play. Moments later the two were happily engaged in a game with cars and trains.
The mother approached me after, a grateful look in her eyes. "How old is your son?" she asked. "Three and a half," I responded. "He's closer to my other boys - they're four. My son here is only two. I'm surprised he would bother with someone younger like that."
I smiled and nodded, but I wasn't surprised. Colin has a natural sense of compassion and sees beyond any seeming limitations to find the need of the person he sees.
The other day at the play centre a boy about 2 years old was having a complete meltdown. Tears streamed down his cheeks, great deep sobs escaped his lips. Colin hovered nearby, clearly concerned about this young boy. After a few minutes, Colin approached him:
"Would you like to play with me? I can be your friend."
I don't even think the boy heard Colin through the crying. His mother continued to try and soothe him, but Colin didn't give up so easily. He hovered near the boy, offering now and then a favourite toy he thought might cheer him. Once or twice it even seemed Colin wanted to reach out and hug the boy. It was a good ten minutes before the boy calmed down enough to hear and then respond to Colin's invitation to join in play. Moments later the two were happily engaged in a game with cars and trains.
The mother approached me after, a grateful look in her eyes. "How old is your son?" she asked. "Three and a half," I responded. "He's closer to my other boys - they're four. My son here is only two. I'm surprised he would bother with someone younger like that."
I smiled and nodded, but I wasn't surprised. Colin has a natural sense of compassion and sees beyond any seeming limitations to find the need of the person he sees.
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