Edward Lotterman

Bonds are in the news.

You may have read that Congress is pushing through a Big Beautiful Bill that will require the U.S. to borrow even more money, via issuing Treasury bonds, to fund the larger and ever-growing U.S. deficit.

Japan is struggling with bonds that make up its own large national debt.

China, long on the buying side of our bond selling, now threatens to “sell” some. That will force our interest rates up, regardless of what the Federal Reserve does.

How exactly does this all work? Most people understand that a bond involves some institution, typically a government or a business, borrowing money on which it must pay interest. But everything after that becomes a muddle. So here is a primer.

Yes, a bond — whether sold by a government or a private business — is an IOU or promissory note. It legally documents a debt.

Bonds differ from home mortgages, car loans or credit card agreements in that they are very standardized portions of a large borrowing. Whether “issued” by a private corporation, school district, state or the U.S. Treasury, a $1,000 bond is the same as thousands or millions of others issued in the same offering.  The face value, or principal, the term, or the period of time before the principal must be repaid, the rate of interest and when it will be paid are specified. The collateral, or underlying value securing the debt, is the capital assets of the seller plus the seller’s ability to make money, either through corporate profits or taxation authority.

We say that bonds are “bought” and “sold,” but the act of buying is actually lending money. Selling, or issuing, a bond is accepting a loan and making this legal promise to pay. But this only applies to the initial issue in a primary market. After that, most bonds are “negotiable,” or resalable, from one person to another before the maturity date.

U.S. Treasury Bonds that constitute the national debt are offered in a wide range of maturities that fall into three categories with different names: Ones maturing in only 4, 6, 8, 13, 17, 26, and 52 weeks are “bills.” These are like the Series E or EE savings bonds that could be bought for about $18, but for which one received $25 some years later when they matured. Those had no semi-annual or annual payment of interest. The difference between the purchase and redemption price was the interest. T-Bills work in the same way. They are purchased for less than the nominal value that is paid out on maturity. The larger the difference between purchase price and redemption value, the higher the interest rate earned.

Treasury Notes currently have maturities of 2, 3, 5, 7, or 10 years. Interest is paid every six months to whomever owns the note as of a specific date.

Currently, Treasury Bonds per se are sold only for 20- and 30-year maturities. Interest is paid twice a year. Regardless of the “bill” versus “note” versus “bond” technicalities, all debt of the U.S. government is generically called “Treasury bonds” or “Treasurys.”

All these are “sold” in competitive auctions. Large financial firms, starting with the one offering the lowest interest rate, get batches of bonds desired. These dealers then sell the bonds on to investors — banks, insurance companies, retirement funds and mutual funds. Individuals long had to go through a broker, but now can secure bonds for themselves at the most favorable interest rate for that particular auction. (Read “About Treasury Marketable Securities” at treasurydirect.gov for an excellent explanation of this.)

Once any Treasury security is purchased, it can be resold again and again. So can nearly all corporate bonds or ones sold by state and local governments. This differs from the “primary market,” mentioned above. Subsequent bond sales and purchases are in “secondary markets.” Such secondary trading then leads us into questions of how bond markets can force hard decisions on governments — and the reasons, as stated above, that bonds are in the news.

To understand the dynamics of this, consider “contracts for deed,” in which the seller of a house or farm accepts a down payment and the rest of the principal must be paid off over some period of years. Accrued interest is due at the time of each principal payment. There is no need for the buyer to get a mortgage and the seller remains vulnerable to any default. But the incentive here is that the seller may find more potential buyers than through the mortgage process.

Even though conventional property sales through mortgages predominate, such contracts for deed long were common in selling farmland, small businesses in rural areas and houses. Even though sellers did not get large amounts of cash to purchase another residence or settle an estate, and bore the risk of default, contracts for deed suited the circumstances of some sellers and some buyers.

One reason was that it was a solution for lack of liquidity. If you had sold a property on a contract for deed but your situation then changed so you needed cash immediately, you could sell the contract to an investor who specialized in such deals. You got a lump sum of money. They got the legal document giving them rights to collect interest and principal payments. People who remember classified ads in hard-copy newspapers may recall sections of these offering “CDs bought, highest prices” and a telephone number.

The “price” offered, however, recognized that the amount of cash a seller would get was less than the amount of principal still owed on the contract. If $150,000 principal remained to be paid, you might get $120,000 cash for signing over ownership.

The amount of this discount varied greatly with the interest rate. Say you had sold a house on a CD in 1972 with 7.5% interest due every year on the outstanding balance. Then, in 1977 with $80,000 still owing, interest rates had risen to 9%. You only would find a buyer for that CD if you took a real haircut. No one would give you $80,000. Depending on the number of years left, you might get $65,000 or less.

The “or less” depended on this differential between the interest rate in the contract compared to current rates. Possible future rate fluctuations also were a consideration, together with riskiness of the buyer and administrative hassles of collecting payments.

“Secondary markets” for bonds function in very similar ways. “Seasoned” bonds that were issued a few or many years ago can be readily bought and readily sold. Ones issued by different entities, Xcel Energy, Roseville Public Schools,  the U.S. Treasury or the Republica Argentina each have different levels of risk. However, rating agencies such as Moodys, Standard and Poors or Fitch track all relevant variables closely and assign ratings tied to the level of risk. Buyers don’t grope in the dark.

How does all of this play out in the effects of China selling off large quantities of U.S. Treasury bonds bought in the past? Who are “bond vigilantes” and why do interest rates depend on them as much as on the Federal Reserve? Remember the situation of someone who owns a contract for deed and needs cash and come back to this space next week for a further explanation.

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St. Paul economist and writer Edward Lotterman can be reached at stpaul@edlotterman.com.

By KIM COOK

Whether it’s a modest balcony, a pocket-size patio or a tiny backyard, small outdoor spaces have big potential. With a few smart design choices and some creative flair, even the most limited square footage can become a welcoming and rejuvenating retreat.

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The very constraints of a small area can inspire more thoughtful — and impactful — design decisions.

Here’s how to make the most of your petite patio, balcony or urban garden and turn it into a space that wows.

Think vertically: Make use of walls and railings

When floor space is at a premium, the only way to go is up. Vertical gardening is a game-changer for small spaces. Hanging planters, wall-mounted herb gardens and tiered plant stands help you layer in greenery without sacrificing room for seating or movement.

And it will help with privacy as well.

“If you’re squished up against your neighbor in an urban setting, strategically placed containers with vining plants can form a green privacy wall,” said House Beautiful editor Kate McGregor. “You could also try trellis panels or fencing, to ensure you don’t feel like you’re always on display when you’re outside.”

Vining plants with attractive flowers include black-eyed Susan vine, mandevilla, sweet pea, star jasmine and trumpet honeysuckle. If you’ve got actual ground to work with, on a small outdoor patio for instance, consider something heftier, like climbing hydrangea or shrub rose.

Trellises, rail planters and vines create the illusion of a taller, larger space, as they draw your eye upward.

Mini gardens and container plants

Containers allow you to grow herbs, flowers or a few veggies just about anywhere. Go minimalist with a couple of sleek planter boxes, or add visual interest with some artsy pots in different materials and sizes.

Layering plant heights —from low succulents to tall grasses or small trees — adds depth and makes the area feel lush and vibrant.

Low-maintenance options like lavender, rosemary and ornamental grasses can add greenery with minimal upkeep. Grasses can look pretty in a breeze, and anything with a scent is worth planting.

Ahh, al fresco

Put a sturdy bin or basket near your patio or balcony entryway to stash yoga mats and small weights. You’ll have a handy 24-7 meditation or workout space, right outside the door.

Fill a planter with zesty citrusy-scented lantana, soothing lavender or night-blooming moonflower to add a mood maker.

Fold it, stack it, store it

When space is tight, think flexible, lightweight and dual-purpose furniture. Foldable bistro tables and chairs can be tucked away when not in use, while storage benches offer a place to sit and stash outdoor cushions, garden tools or a cozy throw blanket for chilly evenings.

Stackable stools or nesting tables can be pulled out when you’re entertaining and tucked away when you want more open space.

Look for all-weather and multi-functional pieces.

Cozy lighting, big ambiance

Lighting can completely transform an outdoor area, especially in the evening. A string of simple battery-operated fairy lights, a solar-powered lantern or LED candles add warmth and a festive vibe, without needing an outlet.

For extra impact, combine lighting types — overhead string lights with a couple of lanterns at ground level can make a space feel layered and create a cozy atmosphere.

Rugs, textiles and texture

Bring the comfort of indoors out by adding textiles. All-weather rugs come in dozens of patterns and textures. Use peel-and-stick tiles, if you’re permitted. Either will define a living area and help bring in whatever décor style you’re going for. Cushions and throws come in loads of colorful, weather-resistant fabrics, adding homey softness to the space.

This undated image provided by Kim Cook shows her back deck. Interesting planters full of colorful blooms, an all-weather rug, and a few simple pieces of outdoor furniture create a welcoming spot for morning coffee and neighbor visits. (Kim Cook via AP)

Style with personality

Just because a space is small doesn’t mean it has to be boring. Treat your outdoor nook like any other room in your home by infusing it with personal style. Use outdoor-safe mirrors to reflect light and make the area feel larger. Hang weatherproof artwork or decorative panels to add a creative focal point.

Accent with items that reflect your taste — whether that’s a boho lantern, a modern metal sculpture or even a vintage watering can repurposed as décor. A consistent color scheme can tie it all together, whether you go for calming neutrals or punchy brights.

Shade and shelter

Free-standing umbrellas, or more space-saving, free-standing retractable awnings, are renter-friendly options that require no installation.

Besides protecting you from the elements, these items also help define your outdoor space, making it feel more private and purposeful.

So whether you’re sipping your morning coffee on a city balcony or hosting a few friends on a tiny patio, it’s not about how much space you have — it’s about what you do with it.

New York-based writer Kim Cook covers design and decor topics regularly for The AP. Follow her on Instagram at @kimcookhome.

For more AP Lifestyles stories, go to https://apnews.com/lifestyle

Few things in my life have been as consistent as “Jaws.”

I have no friendships as old as my relationship with “Jaws.” It debuted 50 years ago this spring, soon after Memorial Day, and for those of us who spent summer breaks getting wrinkled in water, it ruined the next eight weeks. It was the first movie I saw in a theater (or in my case, a drive-in). Having grown up and regularly vacationed not that far from where it was shot, whenever I catch a snippet of “Jaws” on TV, even decades later, I am partly watching a film and partly seeing family photos, a childhood and home movies from New England beaches, circa 1974.

Boardwalk arcade games.

Unleashed dogs.

Suntan oil, not sunblock.

Sublime lethargy, soundtracked in one scene by a beach radio that’s faintly wafting Olivia Newton-John’s “I Honestly Love You” — although, trivia alert, in the film, it’s a cover by Lynn “Rose Garden” Anderson, as well as a devilish example of a 28-year-old Steven Spielberg’s genius for detail. Just as you hear it, the song is cued to: “I’m not trying to make you feel uncomfortable.”

“Jaws,” for me, remains uncomfortable and bittersweet, hilarious and rousing, and though Roy Scheider’s sons in the film supposedly have New York accents, they sound much more working-class New England and when I hear them, I always get homesick. I catch glimpses of free-range summer vacations — one of those sons takes a dingy into a pond, without supervision — and mentally note coastal buildings and roads and landscapes irrevocably altered or no longer there. “Jaws,” for me, is more of a documentary. Every election cycle, I smile when someone posts a photo of the actor Murray Hamilton with a reminder: The mayor in “Jaws” is still mayor in “Jaws 2.”

That said, from Cape Cod to saltwater-free Chicago, perhaps for you, the response was just as primal: “Jaws” inaugurated the lifelong feeling that something’s down there, beneath us in the water, wherever we were swimming, even if we were wading in a neighbor’s aboveground pool.

My daughter once eye-rolled me, suspicious at my claim that “Jaws” kept people out of the water for years, regardless of whether that body of water was the Atlantic Ocean, Lake Michigan or a backyard swimming pool. I assured her, there’s good reason Universal Pictures decided the tagline for “Jaws 2” needed to be: “Just when you thought it was safe to go back in the water …”  There’s even a clinical name for the phobia that “Jaws” appeared to exacerbate among a population who probably didn’t know they had it to begin with: Thalassophobia, or the intense foreboding one feels around deep water and whatever exists under the surface.

Ask a film critic and they will confirm, regardless of whether they agree: “Jaws” gets routinely name-checked as one of the few perfect movies in the entire history of cinema, a movie so much about its own medium that in 1975 Pauline Kael wrote of running into a veteran director who was astonished by the young upstart director of “Jaws.” The filmmaker said that Spielberg “must never have seen a play. He’s the first one of us who doesn’t think in terms of the proscenium arch. … There’s nothing but the camera lens.”

Here’s how that translated inside a theater: Audiences floated at the lip of the ocean, the waves casually slapping at the bottom of movie screens, reminding them, without spelling it out, that something’s below. Here’s how it translated after we left the theater: A horror flick irrevocably changed our relationship to swimming. Hitchcock’s “Psycho” spoiled the long hot shower for a few years, but Spielberg ruined 70% of the Earth’s surface.

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A few weeks after “Jaws” opened, a columnist at this newspaper, taking this temperature of alarm, reminded readers they had a better chance of being struck by lightning than being eaten by sharks. Besides, the (true-ish) story Quint tells in the film about the hundreds of soldiers killed by sharks after the U.S.S. Indianapolis sank — an exaggeration. It wasn’t hundreds, it was “70 or 80 at most.” Whew. A few months after “Jaws” opened, the fear remained so real that another columnist noted: “The silver screen knoweth no salt-water boundaries. Somewhere in the country, a swimmer may well be looking for a fin in his chlorinated pool at this very moment.” Grabbing the feet of fellow swimmers was now a thing. By summer’s end, humming “DunDunDunDUNDUN” was already a cliche.

Asked by a reporter that summer if “Jaws” had already become indelible, Roy Scheider could not have answered more wrongly: “Traumatic shocks in entertainment disappear.”

Sorry, Chief Brody, but for years afterward, reporters and editors at this paper received the occasional letter or phone call, from tourists testing Oak Street Beach, from visiting suburbanites, seeking reassurance, or just wondering: Could Lake Michigan contain a shark or two? Philip Willink, a researcher for the Illinois Natural History Survey, former senior biologist at Shedd Aquarium and co-author of the new “Fishes of the Chicago Region: A Field Guide,” remembers the movie creating “all kinds of problems for regional fish biologists. I used to routinely get calls from concerned parents wondering if it was safe to let their kids swim at Chicago beaches — or was there a risk of shark attack.”

There was not.

Still, the other day I spotted a bumper sticker: “The Great Lakes: Unsalted and Shark Free.” As Henry David Thoreau once wrote presciently: “I have no doubt that one shark in a dozen years is enough to keep the reputation of a beach a hundred miles long.”

Endurance swimmer Louis Pugh swims near the Edgartown Harbor Light, May 15, 2025, in Edgartown, Massachusetts. He is attempting the first-ever swim around Martha’s Vineyard ahead of “Jaws” 50 year anniversary. (Robert F. Bukaty/AP)

Rumors are pesky creatures: The big one that got going after “Jaws” was an urban legend about a boy named George Lawson who, depending on who told it, lost a leg to a shark in Lake Michigan or was eaten and never found. This did not happen. But what did was at least one hoax, as well as an incident biologists still debate. The hoax: In spring 1969, two fishermen pulled up a dead 29-inch-long shark off Milwaukee. After their catch created a bout of agita along Lake Michigan, a Wisconsin tavern owner admitted he had snagged a shark off Florida in 1967, and, for reasons lost to history, kept it in a refrigerator, presumably biding time until his killer prank. As recently as 2008, a dead two-foot-long blacktip shark was found near Traverse City, Michigan — again, it was probably imported and then dumped, or so says the Michigan Department of Natural Resources.

Less clear-cut is what happened in 1937 on the Mississippi River in Alton, Illinois: Though sharks are largely a saltwater species, fishermen working along the Missouri line pulled up a five-foot-long bull shark. Photographic evidence points to a bull; researchers at the time confirmed, yes, it’s a bull. But just last year, a piece in the Detroit Free-Press described biologists as still split on whether that catch was just another hoax or, more likely, a terrific example of the adaptability of the bull shark.

Look, don’t listen to me, try a professional fish man: Kevin Feldheim of the Field Museum, whose work focuses on the biology of sharks, said: “Some sharks — bulls in particular — can tolerate fresh water and do swim quite far up rivers.” Bulls are special. But he’s never heard of a bull navigating fresh water as far north as a Great Lake. However, as a child in the Los Angeles suburbs, he did get interested in sharks because of “Jaws.” It never affected whether or not he swam in pools.

“Although the movie ‘Piranha’ did.”

Considering that 1978’s “Piranha” — directed by a young Joe Dante and written by a young John Sayles — was one of the first successful “Jaws” rip-offs, I believe this is splitting hairs. Irrational fear is not different from the panic sweeping beaches in “Jaws.”

There’s truth involved: When I was a kid, a friend whose home stood on stilts alongside a cove on Rhode Island’s Narragansett Bay — which does see the occasional great white shark — was convinced a great white ate his dog. In truth, it was likely a mako.

Whew, again.

But also, there’s more perception than reality. Another friend of mine, an NCAA swimmer back in college, often finds herself in a freshwater lake in New York: “When I am doing a long swim across the lake, I often think of the (“Jaws”) poster and get myself all anxious.” Brian Samuels, a Deerfield native and fishmonger at Dirk’s Fish in Lincoln Park, informed me: “I would not swim in public pools because of (‘Jaws’). Not just that, but across the street from my house, a neighbor had a pool. I was convinced beneath me in that dark water was a shark, because, of course, there had to be.”

Even Gene Pokorny, principal tubaist for the Chicago Symphony Orchestra — who has played the infamously ominous tuba thumps in the “Jaws” score at Ravinia Festival while conducted by John Williams, its Oscar-winning composer — does not swim in deep bodies of water, period. He always thinks of “the guys from the U.S.S. Indianapolis.” He also thinks of Tommy Johnson, his late friend and teacher, who played the tuba on the “Jaws” soundtrack. In fact, Pokorny was there at the recording:

“I remember it clearly and I remember the circumstances were horrendous. I was there with three friends from the University of Southern California and we had managed to get permission to watch. I was in my last quarter of college at the time. We didn’t really know anything about the film itself, but I remember (the recording session) was late in starting because Tommy, my tuba teacher, was also a regular instructor at a high school and it was rainy that day and the substitute who was coming to fill in for him was late. Plus, there’s the traffic in LA. So everyone is already there waiting when Tommy comes crashing in. The whole orchestra is waiting. Tommy makes his way toward the back row and John Williams just goes, ‘ARE you ready?’ Tommy says ‘Sure,’ pulls out the music, looks at it, the red light goes on to record. He did it cold. There was a movie screen in the studio set to that first scene in the movie, with the woman swimming at night in the ocean. Tommy did not even have the right tuba that day, but the double bassists came in and he nailed it perfectly. It’s what you hear in the movie, one of the most remarkable things. He played tuba on tens of thousands of film and TV scores, but this became his claim to fame. I remember thinking how the images on screen were perfectly complemented by this music. I remember watching with my mouth wide open.”

Gene Pokorny, principal tuba player for the Chicago Symphony Orchestra, shakes hands with conductor Riccardo Muti at the Chicago Symphony Center, Feb. 1, 2018. (Armando L. Sanchez/Chicago Tribune)

I can think of no better illustration of the power “Jaws” that retains: Pokorny was present while its Hollywood mythology was being crafted, and he still can not swim in an ocean.

As biologists have noted over the past 50 years, sharks ironically became the true victims of “Jaws,” villainized and exploited by industries that lobbed off fins for food. The upside is that sharks also became symbols of ocean conservation — a cause that “Jaws” author Peter Benchley espoused during the last years of his life, before he died in 2006.

In case you’re wondering, the Florida-based International Shark Attack File says that, since 1975, less than 60 people have been killed by great white sharks, worldwide. Not one of those people was swimming in Lake Michigan. According to the Coast Guard’s Great Lakes offices in Cleveland, shark sightings across the Midwest are now basically zilch.

Still, Willink, of the Illinois Natural History Survey, said he was vacationing last year on the South Carolina coast when he noticed a fin slice the ocean surface, not far from his son. They had recently watched the film for the first time, and though his son showed no fear of swimming in oceans, Willink’s heart jumped into his throat. The scene in which a mother “is wandering hopelessly and in grief along the surf is seared in my memory.”

That fin belonged to a bottlenose dolphin.

“But my first thought was the movie ‘Jaws.’”

cborrelli@chicagotribune.com

By JAMES RISWICK

As if the impending arrival of your first child isn’t stressful enough, you’re undoubtedly shopping for a seemingly endless list of baby gear. Cribs, strollers, bottle warmers, sound machines and whatever the heck a MamaRoo is. You’ll likely get most of that stuff from a baby registry. But the biggest baby gear item requires a more significant cash outlay: a new vehicle for your growing family.

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We can’t help you pay for that, but we can point you toward five great SUVs of different sizes that all start for under $40,000. Edmunds’ car experts focused on three qualities: 1) lots of space between the first and second-row seatbacks for bulky rear-facing infant safety seats; 2) big rear door openings to make it easy to get your newborn in and out; and 3) a roomy cargo area for all of your baby gear. The pricing below includes destination fees.

2025 Volkswagen Taos

Subcompact SUVs are not usually top choices for young families because of their limited space for cargo and child safety seats. The Volkswagen Taos is an exception. It’s one of the roomiest models in its class and even rivals a Mazda CX-5 for all-around baby-toting usefulness. Got a rear-facing infant seat, or even a convertible seat, combined with a stroller and a travel crib? No problem — they’ll all likely fit without having to slide the front seats far forward. The 2025 Taos also receives some welcome improvements such as an updated interior with a bigger center touchscreen and a more powerful engine that gets up to an EPA-estimated 31 mpg combined.

2025 Taos starting price: $26,420

2025 Kia Niro

This photo provided by Kia shows the 2025 Niro. The Kia Niro is a great all-around option for anyone wanting an efficient compact crossover. Its standard hybrid powertrain gets up to an EPA-estimated 53 mpg combined. (Courtesy of Kia America via AP)

The Niro is available as a hybrid, plug-in hybrid and all-electric vehicle. The hybrid comes oh-so-close to matching the Toyota Prius’ fuel economy by getting up to an EPA-estimated 53 mpg combined. It also costs less than the Prius and has a more spacious back seat. The cargo area is nice-sized too. There are a lot of hybrid-powered SUVs available and the Niro is one of the least expensive. The plug-in version and the Niro Electric are considerably more expensive than the regular Niro hybrid, but otherwise they share the same family-friendly utility.

2025 Niro starting price: $28,385

2025 Honda CR-V

This photo provided by Honda shows the 2025 CR-V. The CR-V is a standout small SUV thanks to its ample interior space and an appealing mix of features for your money. (Courtesy of American Honda Motor Co. via AP)

The CR-V has long been a go-to choice for parents and rightfully so. It’s an Insurance Institute for Highway Safety Top Safety Pick. It has a vast back seat, so you won’t likely have to move the front seats up to accommodate the infant car seat in any of the rear positions. The CR-V’s rear door openings are huge, and cargo space is among the roomiest you’ll find for a compact SUV. The entry-level versions of the CR-V come with a 190-horsepower engine, while the more expensive trims have a 204-horsepower hybrid powertrain that gets up to an EPA-estimated 40 mpg combined.

2025 CR-V starting price: $31,495

2025 Chevrolet Equinox EV

This photo provided by Chevrolet shows the 2025 Equinox EV. The Equinox EV is a well-rounded and spacious SUV with exceptional range at a relatively low price. (Courtesy of General Motors via AP)

The Equinox EV is Edmunds’ top-rated electric SUV under $40,000. It has loads of space between its first and second seating rows for fitting a rear-facing child seat. The cargo area is also of a decent size, though ultimately you’ll find more in the CR-V and other compact SUVs. Its electric vehicle credentials are also excellent. It traveled 356 miles on a full charge in the independent Edmunds EV Range Test and has enough power to zip around town without issue. Basically, the Equinox EV is a great family-friendly SUV, and a great EV, at a reasonable price.

2025 Equinox EV starting price: $34,995

2025 Hyundai Santa Fe

This photo provided by Hyundai shows the 2025 Santa Fe. The Santa Fe is a smart pick for a family-oriented SUV thanks to its three rows of seating and ample room for people and cargo. (Courtesy of Hyundai Motor America via AP)

The Santa Fe is the most expensive vehicle on our list, but it is a great choice if you foresee multiple children and want to get a head start with a slightly bigger vehicle. It has three rows of seating. That’s good for future-proofing and just generally handy for those times when you’re going out to dinner with the grandparents and want to take just one vehicle. The Santa Fe isn’t quite as large as Hyundai’s Palisade, but it’s roomy enough for new families and is less expensive. It has also received the Insurance Institute for Highway Safety Top Safety Pick+ award for crash test results and is available with a hybrid powertrain that gets up to 36 mpg.

2025 Santa Fe starting price: $35,775

Edmunds says

These are great SUVs to start your search with. Make sure to bring along your car seat and any other baby gear on a test drive to know for sure what will work for you.

This story was provided to The Associated Press by the automotive website Edmunds. James Riswick is a contributor at Edmunds.