The perks of motherhood just keep unfolding. Yesterday, I got my very own mom car. I traded in my Honda Civic for a beautiful 2019 Honda Pilot. It has every safety feature I could imagine and can hold up to 8 passengers. That’s room for like a lot of kids.
Giving up my Civic feels like the end of an era. It was such a reliable little car that hosted countless memories. It was my first “adult” car. I remember being so excited about it because the headlights were much brighter than the ones on my old Pontiac Sunfire. Oh and the heat worked, I felt so spoiled.
The Civic served me well during my reckless partying years. There were many times my friends and I would be in that car chasing Barcardi Raspberry with a gas station soda in the Mohegan sun parking garage before a night out at the casino. I got my first and only speeding ticket in the civic, although I had been pulled over a couple of times for going too fast. There’s just something exhilarating about watching the numbers climb on a digital speedometer. That car was great for girl’s nights because it had the four doors which made it easy if someone needed an abrupt puke break. There were times people tried to race me on the highway, assuming because I had a Honda, maybe I thought I was a race car driver. There was only a stock steroid system in that car, but it still had some base to it, enough for me to be heard while sitting at a stoplight which is exactly what I wanted. The Civic was such a great car for the person I was in my early twenties.
It was Max’s first car. He loved having free range of the back seat and being able to pace from window to window. I remember a friend telling me once that the only reason my white Honda Civic was distinct from the rest is because of the dog slobber on both back windows. The beige seats were forgiving of Max’s yellow fur and of course the dashboard was always covered in his hair and mine. It’s all blonde, so I could see no difference. Max and I shared many ice cream cones in that car together on cold February afternoons when it’s just not quite warm enough to eat outside. Max and I took the Civic on many joy rides with the same song blasting on repeat, driving down some of my favorite open roads with no where to be.
I’m so thrilled to have a new car, but getting rid of my old car feels like I shed a layer of myself. Now that I’m a mom, the only times I get to blast my radio are when the baby isn’t in the car and the only joy rides we go on are the ones around the neighborhood to get the baby to sleep. The crevices of my mint leather interior will soon be filled with Puffs and and pacifiers and the seats smeared with foot prints and spit up. When there is a girl’s night, my friends will have to find room amongst Beau’s car seat and all of his other accessories. His stuff serving as reminder that even when he’s not in the car with me, I still have a responsibility as his mom. Max won’t have the free range of the backseat that he was once used to, as Beau now vacates one of the windows. We could put Max in the third row, but he would go crazy not being able to drool on my shoulder.
I was so excited about the thought of getting a mom car that I didn’t realize how upset I might be about letting go of my “pre-mom” car. The Honda Civic represents who I was before I settled down and started a family. It embodies a young woman with few responsibilities and not a care in the world. I’ll miss that girl, but I’m really starting to the love the new one. I can’t wait to create new memories and a lasting bond with my Honda Pilot. It’s not just a car.
No, this was not sponsored by Honda, but it really should be.