I remember vividly the day I realized that we were really going to adopt. Andrew and I were standing in the driveway discussing all the whys and wherefores and why-we-shouldnts, when I leaned up against our mini-van. My eyes got wider as realization dawned and I put my hand on the tail-light.
“If this is what we need to do, I’ll drive the stupid twelve-passenger behemoth, Andrew. I can let go of the minivan.”
Those of you who know me well know that this was a huge concession on my part. I am violently opposed to the Van of Large Size.
And yet, in that moment, I knew I would drive it proudly in order to have my yet-unknown daughter home.
Fast forward to last month. I told you about saying good-bye to my minivan. By God’s grace, that van sold in two days. Fortunately, some friends of ours had an 8-passenger van to spare and we were not left without a vehicle. We even got to ride together as a family for the first time. All very exciting.
The day after we sold the minivan, we bought our van, sight unseen. It was in Texas. Getting it here was the most ridiculous farce ever.
We tried to find a company to transport it for us. That was two weeks of waiting. We tried another tact and had a company agree to transport it immediately. Only they couldn’t leave for a few days… and then a week… and then a few more days. So on Friday, after almost a month of owning a vehicle we’d never seen, Andrew hopped on a plane and headed to Texas.
And then his flight got delayed.
When the folks from the car dealership picked him up from the airport, they had a bit of news: your van wouldn’t start this morning. It’s in the shop. We think it’s the alternator.
Bad news: Andrew was stuck waiting on the van, setting him back six hours in our tight schedule to get him home.
Good news: The van didn’t break down after he drove off the lot with it and strand him on the side of the road.
Better news: We didn’t have to pay for the new alternator.
Only God Could news: The mechanic located the part and installed it on the Friday before Memorial Day weekend.
Who says God doesn’t care about the details?
Andrew called me as he pulled out of the parking lot, “This thing is a Beast.”
When he reported in a few hours later, he admitted he couldn’t find where to put the fuel in. He ended up having to crawl under the van, locate the fuel tank, and then follow the pipes to the outside of the van until he could find the cap.
Fortunately, despite Andrew’s mishaps and delays, I was safe at home with the kids and I had back-up. My friend Elle (blog-stalker turned buddy extraordinaire) brought her crew to give me a hand. As the delays and complications piled up, I was so glad to have Elle and her peeps by my side.
Note to self: when my kids get older, don’t be afraid to drive four hours to bless another Mama in the throes of raising little people. This is the greatest mama-to-mama service EVER.
Andrew arrived home safe and sound last night. He mentioned that he had a hard time getting over the small mountain into the valley we live in. So when we went to church the next morning, all of us loaded nicely into our 9-passenger ride, we took the easier route out of the valley.
We smoked like a chimney. And we barely made it up the hill.
We sat through church with a sick feeling in our stomachs, thinking we’d just bought a lemon… A lemon that waited to die until we’d driven it 900 miles from Texas.
After church, Andrew and Elle’s husband popped the hood and noticed that there was some pump completely DISCONNECTED, the mechanics must have missed it when they replaced the alternator. They plugged it back in and Andrew fired up the diesel engine and proceeded to roar around the neighborhood.
Problem fixed. For free.
And on a Sabbath day, no less.
This afternoon, it was my turn to tackle the Beast and drive it to Wal-Mart. We’re taller than any car or truck on the road and I felt the need to channel my inner trucker. “Breaker breaker, this is Mama Hen…”
“… and my little chicks have the sweetest ride on the road!”
So… we need some help. This van needs a name.
Sadly, it is white. And long, like I predicted. And it’s ridiculously tall.
We’ve had several suggestions already, including The Heffalump, Leviathan, the Endeavor (this is Sam’s favorite because it’s a spaceship, only he says is like “the Deborah” which is even funnier), and the Beast.
Which one do you like best? Or do you have another suggestion? Help us out, peeps!
Hmm… big and white? I’d have to go with the (predictable) moniker of Moby Dick.
Ha! Well, I’m taking the devil’s advocate route and voting for “Cloud 9″ because it’s big and white and hey, 9, you never know…. Plus it’s disgusting little twist on motherhood because Cloud 9 is kind of this wonderful/lovely/peaceful/happy beautiful place to be and motherhood is kinda like that…. So you could snicker every time you said it! Reframing, it’s all about reframing.
Can we see a pic of it from the side? You know…maybe it would help to give it a name:)….
The Henhouse? The Chicken Coop?
Um … before you ban me from ever visiting your blog again, I’ll backtrack and just say that I rather like “The Deborah.” Or Endeavor, if you want to be boring.
Henry Humility…. Nice Sprinter!
Yay! I have been waiting on this post. Could you please tell us exactly what it is? We are almost nineteen months into having to take two rides everywhere we go, because our family of nine can’t fit into one of our vehicles.
Great White
White lightning
I am thinking. Can’t be The Beast. Thought that is what you used to call the wonder dog, no? Thinking…
I’m not sure of names for the van but one of you needs to be Smokey and the other, The Bandit.
Mark votes for The White Knight! Here’s his engineering explanation: It’s tall, and you’re proud to have it. You have the biggest family around (only because we don’t live there) and you need something strong to protect it.
Our van is known as the Crimson Cruiser (Roll Tide).
Call me. I’ve one hand and lots of ideas…
It’s a Sprinter. Feel free to email me if you want more details! (vitafamiliae@gmail.com)
they are all great names but i think i am going to vote for “the endeavor”. not only does it get you to outerspace but as you load in and out maybe it will be one of those words that triggers you to remember all that you are endeavoring to do in your family through Christ! i know, sentimental mush i am.LOL blessings, jen in al
My sister has one that she calls Casper. As in the friendly ghost. She is more annoyed by the whiteness of it than by the size.
I vote for Cloud 9!
I vote for The Beast! Could we see a picture of the outside? Happy driving!
The VitaVan! You can call it Viva for short!
Oh you got ONE OF THOSE??? With all the captain’s chairs and the aisle down the middle? Color me greeeen with an odd kind of jealousy that would fire up over a great white Yeti, cuz that’s the kind of megavan I want to get when we overflow the bounds of our 8-passenger Suburban. Or at least when we can’t install anymore carseats. And that’s what I’d planned to name ours, the Yeti. You know, big white abominable snowman? That’s the only thing I could think of that was massive and white and rather intimidating. And I didn’t know the name of the massive scary white creature from Hoth that almost ate Luke… but my kids would love to name it after him.
I think you know that I love naming cars. I think it makes them more like members of the family more likely that I will take good care of them. This way, when you have to pay the inevitable large amount for maintenance or fixing – its like doing it for a member of the family. I prefer female non fictional names. I like Deborah and the story behind it. Maybe something that has a Texas tone like Wynona, or Tammy. Happy name hunting!!
Thunking of your necklace–the Pea Pod.
Yours is way cooler than mine! We call our 15-passenger van the Largeness.
KellyM – Oooo, the Yeti is really good, but I’d hate to take your name. You may need it some day!
I love the Yeti!!!!
My van is the Purple People Eater. But it’s not nearly as large.
Merle
I like Endeavor. My aunt drove a white van at one point and we referred to it as The Dustbuster.
Oh, I pray the Lord would have us need that name for such a family transporter someday! But we’re in Texas, and you’re obviously somewhere 900 miles away, so I don’t think we’d get them confused. I don’t think having more… Yetis? Yetuses? Yetii? …would be a problem at this distance.
Though I sure wish we were closer. I think we’d have plenty to talk about!
KellyM – You are very kind to share with us then. It’s definitely one of my faves. We’re going to have a family pow-wow to decide very soon! In the meantime, the next time we’re inTexas to buy a Beast, I’ll let you know!
The Paddywagon? That’s kind of what mine feels like, on most days, driving with the kids.. lol
oh my gosh …
this brings back so many memories of our BIG conversion van with the spiffy overstuffed captains chairs! the kids all has plenty of space and it made my life so.much.easier!
names … for a van? c’mon … vincent, of course! as in vincent van go(gh)! works with all your mommy moods, too … vince … vinny … v … vinCENT!!
many blessings … may you put many song filled, prayer answered miles on your new van…Vinny!
I’m totally voting for Vincent Van Go(gh)! That is awesome!
The Beast, no doubt about it! May it serve many years without hitches!!
Glad Andrew got home safe!