First World Problem DuJour

Got a call from the mechanic this morning.  Bad brake lines. Cost about $1200.  Crap and double crap.  I'm not playing this game with my old Chevy anymore.  She's just too high maintenance, and she eats too much.  I'm getting it patched, and I'm going car shopping.  I had hoped to hold off and be a responsible grown up.  I had hoped to get more miles out of the beast, but sometimes the facts make the decision for you.  That $1200 would be better spent towards a down payment on something new and more fuel efficient.
Funny thing is though, this kind of feels like a moral defeat.  I was hoping that I could make do with what I had, I was hoping that I could somehow remain satisfied with an old SUV with duct tape on the bumper and a bunch of funny noises.  Then the brake lines decided to rust out, which is not okay, and it's not something that you can just smile past, it already put me, my kids and several random strangers in peril.
Therefore, I am going to get on the treadmill of financing and more car payments and ditching a car that, in much of the developing world would be a perfectly functional vehicle.  And I am thankful for good credit, and thankful for the resources to be able to do such things, even if it is a little bit of of big pain in the you know what.
I suppose I could look at this as God telling me that the desire that had been eating at me for months wasn't actually so misguided.  I have wanted a new car, I have suspected that I needed a new car.  I don't feel like a responsible steward of resources driving around in such a gas guzzler.  I'm going to downsize and simplify.  In many ways, this is an attempt to be less wasteful, and it is, also a referendum on a period of time where I made many less than ideal decisions.
We got the Chevy because it was big, and we had babies to haul around and babies have lots of stuff that goes with them everywhere: strollers, booster seats, pack-and-play cribs, large toys and car seats, lots of car seats, for a long time.  Then we got a camper, because we had a truck that would tow the camper and because, you know, we had a case of the wants.  Could we afford it?  No.  Did we need it? No.  Did we even like it that much?  Sorry, but no.
It's funny that I feel like I'm putting an age of acquisitive foolishness behind me by buying something really expensive.  It's funny that my best effort at self discipline was taken essentially out of my hands.  It's like being on a diet and having someone tell you that you NEED to eat a piece of chocolate cake the size of a football or else one of your children is going to be horribly maimed.
Mixed emotions for sure.