Goodbye, again

I know I've written before about all the things I just knew I would never, never do once I had kids. Things like, oh say use a leash or bribe them with cookies or let them walk around with runny noses.

Top of my list was the fact that I was never, ever going to drive a minivan. I mean there was absolutely zero chance. Zero.

Until I found out I was pregnant with triplets (many many 'nevers' go out the window upon hearing that news.... chief among them the "I'm never having triplets!" one). And we realized that we needed a car that could hold three car seats. And that is a very limited type of automobile.

And so, almost exactly two years ago, we went and bought a minivan. Not just ANY minivan, mind you, but a USED KIA MINIVAN. That's right..... try to control your jealousy.

Somehow early on, the minivan earned the nickname Mr. Poop. I honestly can't even remember why though it did come from my husband. Yes, good Old Mr. Poop, my minivan.

Now we have decided to sell Mr. Poop. My mom just bought a new car and we are taking her old one (an Infiniti SUV, so a definite upgrade). The van is out in the driveway with a big "For Sale" sign in the window.

And I can't believe how terribly sad I am about it.

I remember very clearly the day we bought the van - I was about four months pregnant and the whole idea of triplets seemed so surreal, so hard to comprehend. Driving off the lot in the mini van certainly helped make it much more real. We were so happy that day, happy with our purchase, and excited at the thought that in a few short months we would be filling it up with three sweet babies.

Driving it while I was pregnant I would look in the rear view mirror and try and picture the babies that would someday be strapped in back there. One would have to go way in the back in the third row, and everyone would always say "Don't stick Jack back there!! Don't make him sit in the back because he's the boy!" And I would say I won't, I promise. They can all take turns. And then I thought, maybe he'll like it in the back... a little time alone, away from his sisters. A little peace and quiet.

Of course Mr. Poop never did get to carry three car seats, and that third row was never even really used. But it's still been a good car. It took my girls home from the hospital when they were so so tiny, being swallowed up by their car seats. It's gotten us safely around for almost two years. And it's been the very last 'triplet' thing we still had.

I can't tell you how many times I've looked in that rear view mirror since Jack died and tried to picture him there, sitting in his car seat, yes way in the back. Behind his sisters, another little blue eyed, fair haired baby. When the van goes, that vision, even if only in my mind, goes with it.

Goodbye Mr. Poop, thank you for two good years. Thank you for keeping my babies safe inside. All three of my babies.

And goodbye again Jack. I hate that over and over, we keep having to say goodbye.