I need someone to hold my hand

**The opinions expressed in this post are strictly that-opinions. If I happen to talk smack about a vehicle that you own and love, please  know that I mean no offense and am just struggling with the impending death of my beloved Sequoia.**

We interrupt our regularly scheduled program of prepping a house for a baby shower to bring you a post of a young, trying-to-remain-hip mother of 3 who, along with her hubs, has been searching for a new (used, but with low mileage) SUV for a while now to replace her beautiful, sleek, white Sequoia who is now past her prime as she is going on 10 years old.

Young, trying-to-remain-hip mother of 3 will now type in first person.

Help.

I need help.

Our car search has been underway for over 3 months now and has intensified in the last 2 weeks because my beautiful, sleek, has a gazillion miles on it Sequoia has come to the end of her life. I need help because, in our price range we've been looking at SUV's that are a few years old while trying to find something with as low mileage as possible. And something pretty. And something with leather. Okay, leather isn't a need, but I've got 3 kiddos here. Lots of goo can be produced by 3 kiddos. I know that some of you may be thinking, "Well why don't you just ask for the moon, Mary Kathryn? Hmmm? That might be easier to get." And some of you may be right...

 We test drove a Tahoe about 3 months ago and I'm here to say that while it was gawgeous and big and tank-like, a double stroller will NOT fit into the back of that thing. Can you even believe that? Are you listening to me Tahoe makers? You need to rethink the size of the cargo space in the back because it stinks. Sometimes people have 2 babies close together, OR they have 2 babies at the same time OR they have 3 babies at the same time and you need to be sympathetic to those people who have to drive around a monstrous stroller. Mmmmmkay??? 

After the Tahoe went back to the lot, our car search slowed due to LIFE.

Fast-forward a couple months.

Car search picks back up.

Sequoia is coughing and moaning and can't take much more.

My hubs, dad, and seester spend an entire day searching online for SUV's in our price range with relatively low mileage. They find several possibilities within a hundred miles. There's even a Suburban on a lot in town- white, big, low miles. I test-drove it. It would've worked for us, but it was old. Older than we needed to buy, so back to the lot it went. And then my seester wins the prize. A gawgeous black Sequoia with tan leather on a lot less than an hour away. Low, low mileage and we can afford it. I'm giddy. Giddy, do you hear me? I text my hubs and try not to pee my pants while I tell him what an awesome deal it is and how we need to go RIGHT NOW and buy it. He says ok, and then, just because I like to be sure of things, I had my dad call the lot to ask about the beautiful big black hunk of SUV.

And it had sold.

Sold.

Poop.

I rip up the pictures we'd printed out and try not to think about it anymore.

Search continues.

Am I boring you yet?

Sorry-

I promise there's a point to this...

Fast-forward to last Sunday.

The paper is now huge and bulky with toy ads and electronical ads and car ads. A white 2010 Town and Country mini van is among those listed for sale.

Low miles.

LOW.

Crazy low price.

Crazy low.

And this, my friends, is why I need your help.

My hubs heard about said van.

My hubs went to look at said van.

My hubs brought home said van for me to drive, and I saw it.

I saw it in his eyes.

That look of,

This is just too flippin' awesome to pass up my dear.

That look is unmistakable.

Trust me.

Nothing else we've looked at has even come close to being this new and having so few miles on it, and oh bytheby we can also afford it.

But here's the thing.

It's a van.

It's a mini van.

I'm not a mini van gal.

I'm just not.

If you drive a mini van, please know that I mean no offense. I just like to sit up high. HIGH. I want to have to climb UP into my car. Vans are low. And they're vans. VANS. I can't get past it. Just can't. I need someone to come and hold my hand and tell me that it's going to be okay. I need someone to tell me that I won't start wearing mom jeans just because I drive a van. A VAN, do you hear me?

I'm crying on the inside. No joke. I'm crying because I know what a deal this is. I also know that the doors and the back hatch open with the push of a button on the fancy key fob. I also know that a double stroller will fit in the back and still leave space for tons of whatever the heck we can throw back there.

Help.

Please.

I need someone to find a fabulous deal on a Suburban or a Sequoia that's as good as this deal, because if we don't find a deal this good on something else today, I could be driving a mini van.

A minivan.

sigh.

Just throw my son a soccer ball and give me some jeans that come to my armpits.