Even before lockdowns and COVID, quarantines and corona, my car was always the only space where I could be alone. There were times I really, really wished my commute was more than 10 minutes so I could have more time to myself and Britney between dropping off at daycare and arriving at work.
Now with the virus, the car is an even safer safe space. It’s where I sneak my quiet time. Sure, I’m usually on my way to do an errand or grocery shop, but since we try not to bring the kids out other than daycare and camp now, I’m almost always alone.
Alone.
It’s worth volunteering to go to the store. With four kids — actually, with any kids — any mom knows that being alone is golden manna from heaven. Bathroom, shower? Forget it. Those little heads will peek in. The car is where I find silence these days. And believe me, I take my time (yes, I feel guilty the whole time). I sit in the parking lot at Target and check my email, catch up on Facebook, Facetime my brother, talk to my sister, call my parents to just have a conversation without screaming in the background. If I post something on Instagram, it’s usually sitting parked in the car somewhere. If I finish my coffee without having to microwave it, it’s only because I’m still in the car.
Those precious minutes between work and pickup or drop off are when I get to sink into myself again. To listen to songs I know my kids will protest against, or songs I don’t want them to hear. To sing Backstreet Boys at the top of my lungs and relive memories from college and smile. To remember things, plan things, puzzle through something with no one chattering in the background or yelling, “Mom, MOM, MOMOMOMOMOMOMOM!”
Even when my kids were much smaller, the car was my castle. I could strap them down, they’d fall asleep, and I could drive in silence. No interruptions, no crying, no demanding snacks. They were trapped in car seats and I didn’t need to worry about what they were destroying with a marker or dripping paint all over. I didn’t have to keep them from climbing the bookshelves or jumping off the dining room table or from running in the road. Glorious. I would drive home from the zoo and do a loop around the city on I-295 while they slept.
Now, with not many safe places to go, daily temperatures hitting the 100s, and being constantly trapped in the house with five other people, the car is again a place of respite. In the mornings I watch the sun rise over the river while I do daycare drop off. I see the tugboats as I cross the bridges twice each way each day. Air-conditioned quiet with hot coffee. What could be more amazing to a tired mother? Nothing.
Even when I am just sitting in the driveway, resting my head on the steering wheel to gather the energy to unload the groceries and cursing the Goldfish crackers all over the floor, I am the queen of my car. It is a space I’ve needed more and more lately, as things continue to remain so uncertain. Don’t tell my kids where I am. Welcome to my palace!
