I swore I would never get one.

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My husband said repeatedly, knowingly, obnoxiously: "Just you wait and see."

I hate to admit he was right, but I recently traded in my shiny silver two-door for a shiny silver minivan.

Growing up, my family relied on the traditional station wagon to drive three kids around. Despite its stylish wood trim, ours was never cool. But it didn't look like a giant box on wheels. It had the ability to mix and mingle with sedans.

When the first minivan came out, I remember my mom finding them hideous. That was enough to convince me. Over the years, the carmakers improved the designs, making them more stylish, with more bells and whistles.

I have heard my mom say, "I wish they had those when you were kids."

I appreciate bigger cars but have always seen driving a minivan as giving into this new image that doesn't suit me. But finding out we were expecting twins, Minivan Land came looking for me. I resisted at first, focusing on SUVs with third-row seating.

We looked online for weeks and Jack assured me, "It's your decision," since I will be driving it more than he will. I focused on the Honda Pilot, Toyota Highlander and Volvo XC, informally surveying co-workers who had one of the above and swore by each.

Then it was time to hit the car lot for a peek at what they really looked like. The salesguy must have seen me, or perhaps my belly, coming, because the second we mentioned "minivan" he was off and running.

"I've been driving minivans for years. Once you get one, you'll never want anything else," he explained. Of course, he had four kids, and we're just working on two here.

He showed us the minivans first, and I admit I was dazzled by the storage space. A few years ago I gave up on cute, mini purses for more functional ones that carry a ton. The minivan was like a giant purse full of possibilities.

The salesman pointed out that they are designed for women to drive, and I really didn't feel like I was driving a semi when I took it for a spin.

But wasn't it too huge? Who really needs 17 cupholders?

Begrudgingly, the salesman took us to the SUV section, explaining, "You really don't get that much space," and I understood what he meant. Sure, there is room for two car seats in the second seat, but what if we surprise ourselves -- and all those nosy types who say, "Twins? Well, now you're done" -- by having a third child? Where would we put his car seat?

Looking for more expert advice, I went to the twin parents in my community. I posted a message on a local listserv for parents of multiples asking whether I really needed to suck it up, ignore my years of denial and join the minivan club.

The responses were unanimous. The parents mentioned hauling two babies in two car seats and how remote sliding doors are key. They talked about all the space we need for the double stroller -- I did buy a huge one, after all -- and how minivans are so essential for any sort of road trip.

And what if you want to have a grandparent or guest ride with you? Where will that person fit in a smaller car, the roof rack?

All valid points, but what about style? How could I look good behind the wheel of something so huge? How could I avoid getting the nasty looks minivan drivers get when they hog the left lane?

I know a car is supposed to be functional, but I also know I'm not the only one who thinks about style and personality when purchasing a car. Many people drive them as status symbols and use them to pick up women. I'll have plenty of room to do the latter, of course.

When I mentioned my possible minivan purchase to a few friends and family, they were surprised. "Are you kidding?" was the common response, followed by giggles and skeptical remarks. "I could never drive one."

Jack would just snicker in the background thinking about how he was right all along. Of course, he didn't rush to give up his two-door sportscar right away. He just got by on visions of a reluctant wife driving a highway-ready pontoon boat.

As the months progressed, I let the idea of minivan sink in, understanding that with twins and small children, function is more important than form. I will have two children and two dogs, and they might as well all ride in comfort.

So I sold my car and we traded in his toward a tricked-out minivan with leather, DVD and those 17 cupholders that make this vehicle a party on wheels.

Those friends who teased me have already asked me to be the designated driver and can't wait to sit back and watch a movie while I chauffeur them around.

But there still remains the challenge of looking a little less like a soccer mom as I sit up high on my captain's chair perch (very comfortable, by the way).

I may be a mom, but I don't have to drive like one.

Luckily I have a few more months to practice taking minivan driving to a whole new level. I won't weigh down the left lane, apply makeup while driving or neglect my blind spot while gabbing on my cell phone.

Laura Lewis Brown is an adventurous newlywed who has loved, lost and doesn't mind sharing. Her column appears every other Thursday.