Friday, February 24, 2012

A Korean Car and a Sick Tot!

I'm pretty sure that Andy came down with his first ear infection on the day I bought my new (new to me) car. I'm not saying that the two events are related, but that's the day he first showed signs of not quite being himself. Because I am the fabulous mother that I am, I basically ignored his symptoms and chalked it all up to a minor cold and some major teething. "Molars!" I cried out several times over the next couple days, shaking my fist skywards.

But, first, let's talk about the car issue. Here's the most logical thing a family can do when the wife has pre-quit her job and they are about to survive without her significant, or shall I say significantly adequate, income: Buy a car! It's the only course of action that makes sense in these frugal times! But, hey, before we jump to any conclusions about the placement of our brains being somewhere in our ass areas, let me defend myself. I needed a new car. The Chevrolet Cobalt, while acceptable for that childless gal on the go (I used the phrase "on the go" loosely, since I've never liked going places), is borderline too small for a mother of one "on the go." I mean, Andy's car seat fits in there okay and everything, but it hasn't been all that easy, especially with my expanding waistline, bending down and getting him in and out of there. Getting his stroller in and out of the trunk though? Not as okay. Almost impossible. If I tried to fit the stroller in there along with, let's say three envelopes and a granola bar, then that stroller just wasn't going to fit. And you know how important my mail and snacks are.

So, contemplating fitting TWO car seats PLUS a DOUBLE stroller not to mention the ENVELOPES and the GRANOLA BAR made us realize pretty quickly that we had to trade up, size wise. Chris' first instinct was to try and persuade me to get a mini-van. "Mini-vans are AWESOME," he kept telling me. "I want the kind of vehicle that fits all of our stuff, has seating so we can cart both kids plus their friends, AND can fit a dresser. I plan on hauling LOTS of dressers around the northwest suburbs in these coming years!"

A lovely dresser that Chris would be happy to transport.
"Are you starting a dresser hauling business?" I asked. "Do we really need to get a mini-van? I'm only 31. I mean, I don't know if I can be seen out and about (i.e., at Target or in the Burger King drive-thru) in a mini-van."

"Hmm, a dresser hauling business," Chris mused aloud. "I could call it 'Dresser Hauling By Chris.'"

Having never driven a mini-van, I decided to at least try driving one before I completely shot down the idea. We dropped Andy off at his grandparents an hour or so after I noticed the first signs of his illness (Molars!) and then headed to the CarMax dealership to see what was up.

I took a mini-van for a spin- and hated it. I felt like I was driving the school bus. Chris kind of liked it, counting no less than thirty cup holders. He flipped up a massive tray between the driver and passenger seats, exclaiming, "We could eat an entire meal off of this thing!"

"I have sixteen blind spots, my feet aren't touching the floor, and this thing handles like an RV," I complained. "Can we please try something smaller?"

"Dressers, Jackie, dressers," Chris reminded me, before caving. "Yeah, sure, let's look at something smaller."

We tried a crossover, and I loved it. The thing about a crossover is that it's high off the ground (excellent for getting children in and out of without unnecessary bending) and roomy enough for basic storage needs (double stroller, yes, dresser... not so much), but is not super unwieldy and still drives like a regular car. I loved the first crossover we tried, a Rav4. And I was almost sold right then and there, except for the fact that the tires were balding. And herein we found the real problem with CarMax. Since it's a haggle-free shopping experience- we couldn't haggle. We couldn't knock off the price of new tires. And who wants to buy a car that instantly needs new tires? We decided to car it out of CarMax and check out another dealership.

At the Kia dealership, we encountered all the horrible games of car-buying that we'd hoped to avoid. None of the cars had prices on them, and before we could even get the sales guy to tell us prices, he tried to rope us into getting a credit report done right off the bat, telling him how much "per month" we wanted to spend (uh uh, I don't buy a car based on monthly payments, I buy based on total price. Who wants to end up with a fifteen year car loan??), and having us sign meaningless, arbitrary forms indicating that we would like to buy a car if Kia could meet our terms and pricing. Whatever, dude. How. Much. Does. This. Car. Cost? And can I drive it?

At long last, I found myself behind the wheel of a moderately priced, 2011 Kia Sportage. And I freaking loved it. Drove great, the perfect size, good style, good MPG, the whole shebang. "Play it cool, Jackie," I told myself, not wanting to seem overeager to get this car. "I like it," I told the salesman, "Buttttttt... how does it handle... in... a... hurricane?"

"Excellent hurricane management," the sales guy replied quickly. "See this button? The car comes with 'hurricane assist.'"

We got back to the dealership, Chris and I agreed we wanted the car, we played a little good cop bad cop, and got the price to where we wanted it. This is what we'd wanted to avoid in the first place, which is why we'd gone to CarMax, but later we agreed... maybe freedom to haggle is a good thing? We got a newer car, with better features, that I loved instead of just really liked, and at a cheaper price. All because CarMax wouldn't give me $200 for new tires.

We'd been car shopping for seven hours at that point, and finally we were out the door in our new(ish) vehicle, the old Cobalt parked sadly off to the side in the grave of unwanted, smells-like-White-Castle trade-ins, and went to Chris' parents house to have some pizza and get our son.

By this time, Andy seemed even less like himself. This was Saturday, and on Sunday he still had signs of a cold and was crabbier and less likable than usual. Monday morning rolled around, and he was still acting sick, but by now he'd stopped eating. "Molars," I muttered, taking his temperature. It hovered just above normal, right where I'd expect it to in the case of molars. We got through the day together (I was off of work), and then morning came. He was hot. His skin emanated heat, and I took his temperature three more times. Just under 100. This is where fabulous mothering comes in once again, and I bundled his sick ass up and dropped him off at day care, knowing full well that they'd be calling me to come get him in a couple hours.

We picked him up by 1:00 after the call came ("Come get your sick kid, you lowlife of a parent.")and were in the doctor's office by 2:15, where he was diagnosed with a cold and his first ever ear infection. (The new car drove beautifully to the doctor's office, might I add).

I was really upset by the ear infection diagnosis. I've been running my mouth all over town, oozing with pride that Andy had never had an ear infection or been on antibiotics, and here we are at nineteen months with an ear infection that I basically ignored for days and a huge-ass jar full of liquid antibiotics. I was relieved, at least, that the antibiotics came in liquid form. On the drive to the pharmacy (car drove beautifully), I was trying to wrap my head around how to shove a horsepill of antibiotics down my young son's tiny throat. These pharmacies, they think of everything!

Andy stayed home with me on Wednesday, at which time he refused to eat anything. I'm understanding this lack of appetite is completely normal for a sick kid with an ear infection, but the Italian Mother in me refuses to allow him to skip meals without putting up a major fight. The kind of fight that results in my poor little boy sobbing away while I try in vain to shove one piece of macaroni into his pie hole. I probably should have tried to shove pie into his macaroni hole, but hindsight is twenty-twenty.

He returned to day care yesterday, refused to eat any dinner, which turned into more begging and forceful cajoling on my part, and then we took his medicine before bed. For his medicine, he opened up eagerly, sucking every last drop of that stuff down and then crying out for more. Something is seriously wrong with this kid. Loves medicine. Hates macaroni and cheese. Being sick turns you into a wierdo.

I'm hoping for some success at dinnertime tonight, now that he's been on his medicine for a couple days and should hopefully be starting to feel better. Perhaps I will serve up one of his favorites tonight: cheese ravioli with a side of begging.

That about sums up the week. New car. Sick kid. No eating. Mediocre parenting. Tune in next time when Andy contracts malaria and I chalk it up to displeasure with an episode of Sesame Street. And also when I buy a boat.

2 comments:

  1. The real reason that I refuse to negotiate based on monthly payments is because they *want* to negotiate based on monthly payments. It's not because they are going to rope you into a 15 year car loan - they're probably going to suggest a normal 5 year loan (although if you can't reach an agreement, I wouldn't be surprised if they suggested 6 years as a way to lower that payment to get it into the range that you've tacitly agreed to pay per month). But they don't get your money monthly - they get it up front from the bank. The higher they can keep that number, the better. A difference of $1000 in total price translates to about $20 per month. It's easy to think of $1000 as a lot of money, but when you're talking about $20, it's easier for them to convince you that it's no big deal. You could pay $179 a month - why not $199 a month?

    Am I getting a good deal on this car when I pay $199 a month? I have no idea. What's the sticker price, what's the total retail price of this car, and how does that compare to what I think the car is worth? That's what's important, and the monthly payments will be based off of that combined with the interest rate and length of the loan - that part will take care of itself.

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