“I’m really looking forward to our time in the car,” I told my 6-year-old daughter, Mia.
“Me too!” she replied with a grin as we gathered our things.
This has become a delightful routine in our household. After trying various activities during my oldest’s gymnastics class, we discovered that simply sitting in the car is surprisingly calming. No longer do we make pointless trips to the store for items we don’t need, and we’ve ditched the frantic drives back to pick her up. Instead, we embrace what I once thought would be dull—we wait in the car.
I bring my laptop to catch up on emails while the kids entertain themselves with books and snacks. Sure, they squabble a bit, but it’s not loud enough to disturb others nearby—just your typical sibling banter. We enjoy the radio, share stories, and sometimes they peek at the internet over my shoulder while crumbs rain down on me. But honestly, I’ll take this over hasty trips for groceries any day.
Remarkably, our weekly car journeys have been reduced from 45 to only 29, thanks to a blend of after-school activities and our newfound car-time.
If someone had told me six months ago that I’d actually look forward to spending 40 minutes in a car with two bickering kids, I might have panicked. I would have thought about staging an intervention for my future self. But this shift in perspective isn’t entirely new; my definition of happiness has been evolving for the past eight years. Since becoming a parent, the luxury of time, money, and freedom has vanished, and I’ve learned to find joy in the little things.
I cherish cozy nights in. I still enjoy going out, but those outings aren’t as frequent as they used to be. Many Saturday nights now find me curled up on the sofa, sipping red wine, and indulging in cheese while watching a movie—a routine I look forward to just as much, if not more than, the bustling nights out we used to have.
Six hours of sleep feels like a victory now, especially compared to the four hours I used to call “sleeping through the night” during more chaotic times. While it doesn’t match the luxurious slumbers of pre-parenthood, I’ve come to accept that it’s enough.
A 10-minute shower behind a locked door is now a gem of a moment while my husband reads to the kids. I appreciate the time I spend working at my computer—not just because it’s fulfilling, but because it means I’m sitting down for a change. My days are filled with running, chasing, driving, cleaning, and refereeing, aside from those peaceful moments in the car.
I find joy in my brief coffee breaks on the kitchen counter after the school runs are done. Traveling by train anywhere feels like a mini-vacation. With a book or magazine in hand, I often wish the train would slow down just to prolong the bliss.
I enjoy a glass of red wine on Thursday evenings. By then, the week has felt long, and regardless of what I’ve accomplished, that little indulgence feels well-earned.
Even my morning coffee, once a ritual at my favorite café, has become a simple pleasure brewed at home. It might be out of necessity, but I find just as much joy in it as I did with my frothy takeout.
But I should wrap this up—our car-time is almost over, and there’s a child spilling snacks on me. That glass of wine is only a few hours away now—pure bliss.
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In summary, my happiness has shifted from grand experiences to appreciating the little moments. Whether it’s enjoying quiet time in the car, cozy nights in, or simple pleasures at home, I’ve discovered that life’s joys can indeed be found in the most unexpected places.