Rip Van Winkle

The van is dead. Forever sleep.

We had it coming up for inspection this month. I made an appointment for Monday (tomorrow). And then I pumped up the tire that has a slow leak and went to the field trip at Carpenter Library. Which was awesome, by the way. I love libraries and I love older school children. Third-Fifth graders are so much better than taking a gaggle of preschoolers to the symphony. Just for an example.

Drove back to school to drop off the books (the kids and teachers had taken the Grand bus). Then, since Maeve was devastated that she was unable to take the Grand bus, I told her we could go get something to drink. She chose a shake from dairy queen, which was fine. So about a half hour later, I pull up again in front of school to pick Sophia up. Go inside. Get Sophia. Talk to one of her teachers for a few minutes. Go back out. Get in the van...everything seemed so normal.

I pulled out of the parking space just fine, but then the turn onto Spring was a little hard to maneuver. Hmmm. Pulled off the road for a second and restarted the engine. Sometimes that's all my van needs. Just start over. But no. The steering was impossible. Crap.

Out on Grand, it's a straight shot for 8 blocks and then a couple turns to get home. I coasted into the center lane and glanced at the dashboard. I was about to overheat. Why? What the heck happened? I yanked the van across the northbound lanes onto Sidney and watched the arrow move closer and closer to red.

"Ok girls, I'm going to get as far as I can and then we'll walk the rest of the way." The funny thing is, they didn't complain. "Ok," Sophia said. Maeve said nothing. No anxiety, no laziness. Maybe they can read it in my voice.

We made it a half block. Pulled over and turned off the engine. I thought maybe I could just turn on the electric and let the fan blow to help cool the engine, but thought better of that. If the power steering hadn't gone out, then maybe. But I was spooked by the chain of events and we hoofed it the mere 3 blocks home.

Called my mechanic. He knows my voice on the phone. Dangerous. "Sounds like the serpentine belt," he guessed. "Which isn't any big thing but..." He knows we want this van to limp along until May if we can, but he also knows we are not NOT NOT NOT going to sink any more major money into it to get it there. I already knew it needed tires and a new headlight and something was going on with the wiper system. Those would be needed to just pass inspection. But engine work? If it started creeping up into the mid-hundreds, he knew I wasn't going to play along.

I told him we'd call him if we decided to bring it in.

Then I called Mike and told him. He was vaguely pissed off about it. Not at me, not at our mechanic, not at anyone. Just mad. I wasn't mad--I knew this van and I knew it was a gamble to make it to May with 198,000 miles on it. I mean, seriously. A Chevy Venture?

I'm not mad. But I'm fearful. We really really really don't want to have to buy another van yet. Seriously. Maeve's preschool tuition ends in May and Leo's doesn't start until September 2012. We could get a nice start on a car payment. But I've got to be crazy. Mike's car just barely fits the three kids across the back (Leo's carseat, Maeve still has a booster--thank goodness Sophia wears slim jeans, you know?). And Mike does work. Which means quite a bit of bike commuting in my future. Patching that together with borrowing my mom's car a few days a week and carpooling and I already have a headache working it out.

But I'm not going to complain yet. I just switched the car seats out of the van and stuffed them into Mike's car so we can go to church in a few minutes. Maybe it'll work. Not sure if it'll work until late May but we're going to give it a shot.