The Odyssey

Two and a half years ago, when Lily was still an infant, I sat down to read The Odyssey, for it had been assigned as summer reading for the incoming freshmen at Catholic University, who I was about to teach for the first time. It was thus a part of the figurative odyssey of my graduate education--a career path which I had almost haphazardly chosen many months after first graduating from college and which I had first doubted, then grudgingly accepted, and only later embraced, enjoyed, and carried on with Lily in tow.

Now, graduate school is on hold with baby number two, and there is a new Odyssey in my life--a literal one--we bought a minivan. It’s true. Our house in suburbia is now ornamented with that most stereotypical of family vehicles--that pinnacle of “uncool” that can carry half a soccer team and that screams, loud and clear, “My kids are my life.”

But you know what? My kids are my life, or the center of it at least, and I don’t mind. I relish it, really. And though we’re not yet toting around teammates for them, we did make this purchase with an eye to their present and future comfort.

We had been thinking about a new car for a while- ever since we knew we were expecting Corin and moving to Texas, where driving is a bigger part of daily life than in DC.  Despite some hesitation about being too consumer-oriented, Matt and I agreed that we wanted something safer than Violet, Matt's very used Accord, and more spacious and temperature-regulated than Stitch, our Honda Fit. In short, we wanted something that would comfortably convey not only the kids around town but also the whole family--plus dogs, luggage, and stroller--on a good Texas road trip. Neither Violet nor Stitch was quite up to the former, and neither was physically capable of the latter.

I have only ever driven Hondas and have stubborn brand loyalty there, so our search was automatically shortened to a few models. I refuse to drive a large SUV like the Pilot, so we looked first at the smaller CR-Vs. They have more cargo room and nicer features than Stitch, but when we went to test drive one, it really did not feel that much roomier than a Fit- not roomier enough to merit a car payment anyway. Add to that the fact that we may not be done having children, and we were left looking at Honda Odysseys. A new Odyssey costs more than we were willing to pay, so we looked for certified, low-mileage used ones. The first two that we found were at dealerships out of town, and both were snapped up within days of being posted and before we could get out to see them. Then, last week, one came up in a dealership in Austin, and we made it out for a test drive.

Let me tell you: minivans may be uncool, but they are awfully nice to drive. They’re smooth; they’re quiet, and they’re comfortable for kids, which is, short of safety, the nicest feature a car can have for me. When Lily first got in at the dealership, she enthusiastically plopped herself down on the back seat and said, “I’m Ready!” “For what?” I asked. “For the car to go!” she replied. Then, when we had put a deposit down to hold van for the weekend, so got into her bucket seat and said, “Look, I’m on an airplane!” She has a point. There are no folding tray-tables, but there are air vents in the ceiling above each side passenger seat in the back. I can keep Corin cool even in his rear-facing seat. That pretty much did it for me.

So the minivan is ours, and all that remains is to tell you her name. Those of you who know me (and if you read this blog, you probably do) know that I name many things, particularly my cars. You have already read of Violet and Stitch, after all, and it was Violet who left to make room for the new vehicle. So, in good form, this car had a name before we left the dealership. It is quite spacious, so I thought of Lady Catherine and her Barouche box. But few people would know what a Barouche is, and Lady Catherine, while amusing, is not altogether pleasant. So we thought of Cinderella because of the light blue color, but the van is more like the carriage than the princess, and the carriage is white and dreadfully temporary. The Fairy Godmother also wears blue, but that name seemed a little unwieldy and impersonal. But from the Fairy Godmother, it was only a short step to the name we settled on. Almost at the same instant, Matt and I looked at each other and both said “Merryweather.” 

Merryweather, in case you aren’t up on your old Disney movies, is the portly blue fairy from Sleeping Beauty. She’s the short, feisty one who always wants to have a go at Maleficent and who has, when thwarted, that amusing habit of balling up her fists and twisting her little waist and saying “oooooo...” She has always been far and away my favorite character in that film, and she’s one of my favorites in Disney movies generally. So Merryweather it is. And yes, I did download the good fairies’ theme song from the Sleeping Beauty soundtrack to play on our drive home. Lily loves it, and if you have to listen to something over and over again, adapted Tchaikovsky is a delightful choice. The song is called, in part, “Pink or Blue,” from when Flora and Merryweather quarrel over the color of Aurora’s dress. (Will pink vs blue become a recurring battle in my back seat over the years? Maybe...)

http://disneydesigns.tumblr.com/post/6126810199/merryweather-from-sleeping-beauty-sites-and

So we have a minivan. You can laugh if you want; it won’t bother me. I laugh at myself. Ten, five, or even three years ago, I would not have thought of myself living in a cozy house with two kids and a mom-mobile. I’m supposed to teach The Odyssey, not drive one. But things change, and when I do go back to teaching (and do, please, encourage me to keep that odyssey up!), I’ll just drive myself there in Merryweather.