On being a one car family

We are a family of four with one car. Before I go further, I want to be clear: this is not a thing. This is not a slow cooking movement. This is not the capsule wardrobe gimmick. You will likely not find a One Car Family Ideas board on Pinterest.

This is also not a ponzi scheme or some other elitist scam for the 1%. This is written with full awareness that to own even ONE car is a privilege not enjoyed by a great majority of the world's population, nevermind an ability to fuel one's car on a regular basis plus the Nationwide Auto Transportation fees, etc.

This is, however, something of a lifestyle choice in an overprivileged overconsumptive sovereign nation and one I would choose over and over again. Do you like how I just cleared my throat for three straight paragraphs?

I've been asked by several people about being a one-car family, which appears to be something of a distinction in the carpool lanes in which I idle. I've thought quite a bit about this and what this says about me: that people would assume this would pose difficulty for us. Fair enough, I say. Because both adults in our family work outside the home in a geography where public transportation is not accessible/reliable for our purposes. Because we send our kids to a school that is not serviced by big yellow schoolbuses. Because we live in an age where 3-car garages are becoming standard in newly constructed homes.

So, I'll claim it as a thing--our thing. We are a one-car family. We have only ever been a one-car family. I brought no car to the relationship. My hubby inherited a green Honda CRV from his parents when we married, but she has since died (RIP Green Bus) and now we drive what I am told is the official car of the New England lesbian: a Subaru Outback. And we love her.

I'll also fully disclose that my hubby and I also own a mo-ped which he is crazy kind enough to drive much of the year to work and back.

There are many obvious perks to being a one-car fam. We pay less in auto insurance than if we owned, operated more vehicles. We only ever have to gas up one vehicle (the mo-ped uses less than $3/week in gas). When we lived in the city, I took the train everywhere, even when I had a double stroller for which I apologize to all who had to make room for me and my Hummer on the T. Now that we don't live near public trans, we work hard to economize our trips instead of just going out whenever we feel like it.

There are some less obvious perks, though, and these are the ones I value most. After speaking with another family who enjoys being a one-car fam, we agreed that there is a heightened communication system that is necessary with owning one car. Simply put: you have to share more. You have to share where you're going, what time you'll be home. I'm sure folks with multiple vehicles do this, but, in the case when my hubby drives the mo-ped to work, I have to stay mindful of the weather patterns. If it sleets, rains, or heaven forbid snows, I know we'll be packing up the kids in their jammies and schlepping downtown in the car to pick up Daddy. I love this about being a one-car family. We spend a lot of time catching up in the car. We work together as a family to keep it clean, inside and out.

Because of Loverpants' and my disparate schedules, we don't often share meals. Instead, we share the wide open road, sharing pieces of our day as we both gaze in the same direction, with our little backseat drivers chiming in and driving us absolutely nuts. And I would not have it any other way.

Disgustingly perfect

This afternoon was one of those disgustingly perfect Sunday afternoons where you just want to punch yourself in the face to counteract the goodness. I suppose some would settle for a more polite pinch to make sure they're alive, but you know that feeling where the beauty just overwhelms. This sweet, intoxicating prelude to summer weather we're having. You get so high off of it that you forget to worry about your diet, the lawn you need to mow before it rains, the e-mail bombshell that is ticking like a tell-tale heart in your inbox awaiting your reply. We went to a Chattanooga Lookouts game today and it was bliss. We overbought slushies and overate overly salty pretzels and we cheered and switched seats and ogled fat babies. It was just so disgustingly perfect, all four of us sitting in a row with backed bleachers, Loverpants and I putting the bookends on our little treasures in the middle. I held their hands and prayed a silent prayer over and over. Gross, right?

This school year has been a satisfying one for me. For the kids, it has been much harder. There have been some mean-spirited things done to our children, and by the same token, I have complete faith in the fact that our kids have done mean-spirited things to others in return. But this year things felt a little more magnified. The safe hedge that surrounded them in years past seemed to get cropped out. Kids showed true colors. Cold shoulders jabbed from unexpected places. Silent treatments were prescribed. We talked through a lot of things and role-played more playground theatrics than I can recall.

With all the anti-bullying education that is infused into elementary ed these days, I just have to return to our sun-drenched bleacher bench above first base. I know the next years will be hard on our parent hearts as we lead little hearts toward the truth: They are eternally cherished and made for more than this world. I mean, some days/weeks/months are just going to be plain terrible, right? But our hope is that our kids will remember days like this, where it kind of didn't matter who won or lost but that they got sick on Dippin' Dots and too much love.

The Two Reactions: I'm sad about my kid going to school

Feeling all the feels about our little man heading to full-time pre-K. So I'm just going to say it, fully aware that reactions will inevitably fall into two buckets: In Bucket #1, we have the righteous looks askance, wondering why I will not be homeschooling, breastfeeding, and co-sleeping with him until the night of his rehearsal dinner. Don't you know what HAPPENS to children who break that attachment to parents before the age of 34?!? How can you just release him to those cruel agents of institutionalization? Why are you so lazy and selfish that you are relinquishing his education to a STRANGER for 5 days in a row? Every week! Until the history of ever is over....

In Bucket #2, we have the flagging looks of disgust, wondering why I haven't had more of a life until now, such that sending my son to school --which parents have done for thousands of years--is this big earth-shattering milestone that I can't quite seem to cogitate. They are trying to muster an ounce of pity for me all the while thinking, Get a grip, woman. This is not Colonial Williamsburg. Your child will not be rubbing his hands by a fire in the one-room schoolhouse to keep warm, said hands will not be cracked with a teacher's ruler if he misbehaves, you will not be the fresh-off-the-boat parent unable to read the scribble of teacher's scrawl in this English language when notes are sent home. Really. Here's some waterproof mascara for the first day of school.

I understand the sentiments that have filled each bucket full over time. I very much understand that I am not the first mother in history to be without her youngest babe for the duration of a full schoolday, and that I'm going to survive by placing one foot in front of another and taking one intentional breathe just for my own two lungs because I can't take them for him.

But this is where I am: exceedingly grateful that we've been able to keep our boy at home with us for four years. Four years! I know there are many parents around the world who would kill for four months of full-time at-home care of their child. Unlike with Baby Girl whose second month of life saw me starting my grad internship and her father working three jobs,  my mister and I have been blessed with this opportunity to bond quite equitably with our boy before he had to begin formal school. And he still doesn't have to go; preK is not inevitable like death and taxes and drama on "The View." We just feel the hour is ripe for some structure and singing of awesome songs on a colorful rug, sitting criss-cross applesauce, and having snack from a Dixie cup. We're excited and trepidatious and just totally thrilled with our options here in this home that feels on lease to us, just like these years are to us in which we're all just trying to do our doggonest for these sweet, impressionable hearts in our hands.