I have not kept it secret that I miss city life, that I feel more suited to city life, though I have practiced at and grown into loving our more remote way of living. A day like today, I don’t know if I appreciate it more or appreciate it less: because we had to be down in Denver for so many things and it was sweltering and crowded and dirty, and I couldn’t wait to get home to the mountains, but also, living up in the mountains dictates that we have to drive “down the hill” for these life things, most of which I could walk to—or sometimes didn’t even have need of—when we lived in New York.

Such is life, and this part of life, this phase where I am chauffeur more than any other Mom Role, highlights how spread out even small town living can be. All I do is drive. Do I feel guilty about this? Yes, a lot. Do I resent it or feel stressed about it? Now and then. Can it be enjoyable though? Yes, on some days it’s really lovely.

The facts are: by the time I’ve picked up at the elementary school and then the middle school, I’ve clocked over an hour in the car and gotten the details about two separate, very exciting and involved days. On Wednesdays, we skip the trip home and drive to piano lessons instead. On this Wednesday, I left my house at noon and didn’t return until dinnertime.

However, I have enough perspective to recognize this as a very small portion of my life, time with my girls that will quickly slip away, and if you have to be driving for miles a day, this is not a bad place to do it. (Let’s check back in when the snow comes though.)