One of these is the Minivan. Renowned all over the U.S. as the “Mom Van”, “Mom Mobile” and most notably the “Soccer Mom Car”, it has largely been attributed to Moms and has become a symbol of something very strange to me. 

It’s become a symbol of the “resignation to parenting”. By that I mean: there exists a stigma that parenting is 100% a hassle in all aspects, and by driving a Minivan you have officially given up hope of a “normal” life and become a full-blown parent.

Who the fuck decided that?

Lets be clear, parenting is difficult for sure. But for anyone to feel SHAME about it? That’s just mad.

It’s time to accept the Minivan and here’s why:
1.) Space.

There is an UNBELIEVABLE amount of space, and it’s one of the most important things to have as a parent. Even if you have one kid, you have to comfortably fit you child, groceries, stroller etc. all in the same car. If you have a Sedan that can hold all the things you need comfortably, I’ll bet my teeth you pay an arm & a leg for gas. You need all the space you can get my friend.

2.) MPG.

As mentioned above, if you have a car that can fit your kid and all of his/her “accouterments” and it’s NOT a Minivan, you are probably forking over a ton of cash each month that could be going toward diapers or date nights. Modern vans have gotten to be pretty incredible as far as MPG goes, especially the main brands known for their vans such as Honda, Toyota and Kia. Even models from way back in 2008 get around 30MPG avg.

3.) Style.

Now, when I say “Minivan” you are probably thinking of the classic 1990’s Chrysler Towne and Country with the wood paneling on the sides, am I right? Nowadays, not even close. Automakers nowadays are tuned into the style that modern parents are looking for. We don’t mind the bulk, as long as its pleasing to the eye. No more boxyness or strange window configurations. No more driving around your kids looking like a creep in a mini-camper van.

4.) Safety.

The advancement of technologies in the field of car safety are better today than they’ve ever been. In the early 2000’s car makers started putting airbags in every damn corner they possibly could. While trying to turn the car into a huge hamster ball upon collision is a neat idea, it wasn’t necessarily safer. Nowadays they are a lot smarter about placement of airbags to ensure the safety about you and your precious cargo. The development of the frame of the car itself, and in fact the ENTIRE STRUCTURE of these modern vans are developed from the ground up to be the safest possible thing on the road.

5.) Agility.

Feels like your driving a barge? Think again. Older vans were packing a V6 cause it needed to sling around an extra tonne of weight. But with modern frames being lighter and weight distribution being smarter, the new standard V6 in a Minivan can get you from 0-60 in less than 8 seconds. It may not roar like the Mustang you had to trade in, but you’ll still be able to get around in a satisfying manner. Modern Minivans will give you an average 200 horsepower along with Four/All Wheel Drive. Now you may be thinking at this point “you shouldn’t encourage parents to drive recklessly.” Well, I’m not. The primary reason I bring this up is because of something I realised now that I’m driving around with my precious kiddo in the back.

Life on the road often hands you shitty situations. More often than not, you can avoid collisions thanks to your cars abilities in quick acceleration/deceleration and handling. Modern vans’ standard breaks, engines, transmissions and suspension can put others to shame if you feel like a bit ‘o racing. But the real point of it is it gives you the ability to control your ride in the best possible way.

6.) Breaking the stigma of being a Dad.

Another stigma, like the one mentioned at the top of this post, is that Dads are not willing/able to be affective parents. Accepting the minivan for what it is, (the best possible option for managing family life) and owning it as a part of your parenting life is important. The reason most Dads are afraid to be Dads, or closed off to the responsibilities, is because they came of age surrounded by the mentality that Dads are no good at parenting. For every one of us that breaks these stigmas (such as the Minivan, or Cargo shorts) we are taking that fear out of the world. We’re teaching our little girls and boys that they are equally capable of all things. They will grow up knowing this as fact and not be held back by the unfortunate traditions of the past.
All in all, there are more than just 6 reasons for you to get one. What do YOU think? Let us know!

Tweet @pbdadcast using #dadvans or leave a comment!

Cheers,

Ben
Photo by: Eric Rice

I have had many names, even “pen names” like the one I currently use, B.K. Mullen, B.K., and a few others that make less sense like Cosmic Foole. But these names are now all irrelevant. Call me what you will, there is only one name that matters any more. All my life has built me up to be able to bear this name on my psychological shoulders, and I will bear this weight for the rest of my life. But it is not a weight that is uneven or uncomfortable, although some days it may be. Its one that I take with happiness and pride, and I look forward to fulfilling the responsibility brought unto me by it.

My name is Dad.

To be fair, it is currently “dadadadadadadadada” due to she is 6 ½ months old and hasn’t firmly grasped the English language. She says it, although sometimes I don’t think she actually has definition to it. It’s more than likely just part of her babble. But the language she has is beautiful, and it’s hard to describe.She barely speaks a word of English, yet she speaks a language we all know. We all understand it, and we can rarely write it down. It’s in our every day lives but we barely pay attention sometimes. She speaks in the language of raspberries and coos. Her dialect is wailing at the top of her lungs and giggling like a fool. I hang on to every word, and cherish every time I hear her voice.

The other day was one of those days I had to admit a small portion of failure as a parent. It was one of those moments when you turn your back for just a minute and something happens. But the result of this happening was quite hilarious and even when I’m old and possibly suffer from Alzheimer’s, I feel this is one that I won’t forget.

We have a “Pack-and-Play” that we received on our baby shower and its quite nice. Its size is just right, being that it is large enough for her to play in till she’s 3 or 4, has four walls, and doesn’t take up much space in the living room. We’ve been using it for other things, such as storage, but that’s for another post coming soon. Nowadays we have been using it for exactly its purpose now that Emma is sitting up pretty well on her own. We sit her in there with the “Boppy Pillow” behind her (she still takes a tumble now and then) and set her up with what are currently her favorite toys. She is quite happy in this environment.

The following event happened in a matter of 10 seconds or less.

So I set her down, “Boppy Pillow” and all so that I could tidy up the living room a bit. So many baby toys, so little space. So I turn around and pick up the saucer, which at that point was 2 feet or so away from the play pen. I lift it, I swing it over to the other side of the room, and I hear the noise that a lot of new parents fear. I hear a “wump”, or a “thump” or whatever you want to call it. No matter what you name it, it is the universal sound of a little one hitting the floor. Needless to say, she is less than 30inches long, including legs, and she was sitting on her butt, so it wasn’t a far fall. But it sounded like it. The next sound, after the “wump” is what really hit me.

No crying, no fussing, nor any screaming. In a half muffled little voice, starting exactly as the “wump” happened, I hear the best and most worrying sound. My little girl, in a very serious tone, saying one word over and over in the hopes that it would fix her situation.

“Dadadadadadadadadadadadadadadadadadadadadadadadadadadadadadada….”

Unending, serious, calm, yet with a hint of emergency.

It is a split second after the “wump/dadada” moment that I turn and see my beautiful little girl face down in her play pen spread out like a starfish that had just washed up on the beach. The “Boppy Pillow” was still behind her and toys spread in front of it, however just out of reach of her left hand is one of her favorite “blocks” that she loves to chew on. She had been reaching to get it, and ended up in a difficult situation. And in that moment of helplessness and difficulty, she called out what seems to me as the one word that will save her, instead of the alternative to crying. She said “dada”.

She may not know what it means yet, and she may not have meant to call me specifically. But she said my name, and I came to her rescue. I laughed my face off, and immediately told my wife the whole thing upon her return home from work. It was one of the silliest, most wonderful moments in my life.

My wife and I don’t ever get jealous when in a random moment, Emma wants to be held by one parent in particular. It is a joy whenever a moment happens, as it did last night, when my little girl was fussy and pissed as she laid on my wife’s chest, until I entered the room. Emma looked up at me and stopped crying, gazed at me for a moment, and started smiling. She wanted to be held by “Dada”. It’s happened the other way around as well, when my daughter will be miserable all day until the moment my wife comes home, and all of a sudden everything is right with the world.

Call me what you will, whether it be good or ill. Of all the names I’ve ever had, the only one that matters is when I am called “Dad”.

-B.K. Mullen
@BKM505