Vans

Spring was going along just fine.  There we were, minding our own business.  

Watching Jed’s volleyball games. 

Enjoying doing school in the warm sunshine.

Making art.

Watching more volleyball.

And then bam! Out of nowhere:

Rear-ended for no reason on the way home from church.  There were no mitigating circumstances; we were stopped for a long line of cars to pass so we could turn left and drop off a friend at her house before taking the other friend home with us for lunch.  After about the eighth car passed, with two more to go—a screech, a crash, an enormous jolt, and a scream [that was me].

Helpful tip:  if you’re going to get randomly rear-ended, do it in directly in front of a house where a nurse lives.  She rushed out right away to check for injuries and her husband called 911, all before we had gathered our wits.  

A fire truck, an ambulance, multiple police cars, and a good 40 minutes later, we were cleared to drive the last mile home.  All six kids, in the meantime, had walked to the friend’s house we almost made it to, gotten checked out by parents and EMTs, and been driven to our house…where they discovered that they were locked out.

Eventually we all converged at home, where we ate lunch in a daze and I continued making awkward phone calls to other kids’ parents.

Twelve hours later Jason flew across the country for a business trip.

I was left at home with a wrecked van and a bunch of kids with whiplash.

Thankful for a support bunny

Our week was spent frequently on the phone in different time zones, trying to coordinate our insurance claims with our own insurance plus the other guy’s, and trying to figure out what we’re going to drive now.

I look happier here than I felt most of the week, especially since I was walking the kids to soccer and it was ridiculously cold—I had just turned my phone off trying to take the first selfie (how do I always do that?), and this was the second attempt.

The cuteness of these homemade PBJ uncrustables was rather comforting.

Greatly against my will, Jason pep-talked me into going car shopping, since we believed the van was likely totaled.

After much research from afar on Jason’s part, and a fruitless visit to one dealership that had zero vans for sale, I found this one and only new minivan for sale in the entire city:

Yes…red.

The kids freaked out one after another when I showed them the picture.  “RED??!?”

Caleb found this in his collection:

My intended vehicle co-owner being zillions of miles away, I put a deposit down until such time as we could sign papers together in person.  In the meantime, Grandma and Grandpa graciously lent us a car, and also fed us yummy dinner one night.

Later in the week I skipped yet more school to take the (old) van to be assessed.  I taped it together to try to keep most of the pieces from flying off as I drove.

After complimenting my duct-tape job, the collision center lady determined that it was indeed totaled.  

Even taped together.

Jason got home late Friday night and twelve hours later we purchased the new wheels.

It was a week such as I hope not to repeat.  I’m working my way through the manual to try to learn all the new car’s buttons.  Turns out when you don’t buy a new car for 15 years the technology does change a bit.  But that’s after mornings spent furiously trying to catch back up from all the school I missed, so one of these days we can be done with this school year already.