Sometimes I wonder how much time I spend sitting in my car. 

Not driving in my car, sitting in my car, by myself. 

After school drop-off, I drive home and sit in my car in the garage. In the garage. I could very easily go inside my house. But all I want is to sit in my car in the garage for a few minutes.

This car feels like my sanctuary when I’m alone in it.

When I don’t have to rush getting out of it. Or nobody is screaming or crying. This car, inside of the garage, feels like the most peaceful place I ever get to be. I don’t want to get out of it. So I sit in it—in the garage with my coffee—and listen to my podcast, and it feels like the only and best place I get to be. 

RELATED: Your Brain Processes Thousands of Thoughts Per Hour—So Yes, Mama, You Need That Break

I also sit in my car when I get to the grocery store if I’m alone. I’m not sure why I do this, but it feels like before I go in that grocery store, sitting alone in my quiet car feels like some sort of freedom. Because once I go in there and buy all the groceries and then load them in my trunk, I have to rush home to unload them. 

But before I go into that grocery store, I have time to sit in my car. So, I do. Again, usually listening to a podcast or my audiobook, or maybe reading an email I’ve been waiting to read uninterrupted. 

My car has somehow, along the way, become my refuge from motherhood. 

It’s like a protective bubble, and I just want to stay there when I can. 

RELATED: Why Tired Moms Stay Up Late

Because once I get out of the car, the whole world is screaming all the things it wants from me. 

But my car, it just lets me sit and do nothing. 

And most days, that’s exactly what I want and need.