‘The car can feel like a sanctuary’: why I’m embracing being the kids’ taxi service

With three children aged 15, 13 and eight, Steph Douglas knows just how quickly the years are slipping by. So, against popular opinion, she’s choosing to cherish her role as ‘the lift-giver’

Parents love to eye-roll about driving their kids everywhere. “What am I, a taxi service?” and all that. But I’m starting to realise it’s a rare opportunity to have time with the kids, especially with two of my three hitting their teenage years.

In fact, I’ve found myself looking forward to car journeys. A time to check in, sometimes sit in silence, sometimes get into the big stuff … There’s something about sitting alongside each other that is much less intense than face to face.

Being in the car also leaves me with less to focus on than when I’m at home – it’s not always easy to switch off the ticker tape to-do list running through my mind, but it’s even harder when you’re at home and surrounded by said to-do list. The car can feel like a sanctuary versus the chaos of home.

My rugby-loving 15-year-old recently had an ACL operation and, where he’d increasingly become quite independent in meeting up with friends and getting to training, we suddenly found ourselves back to ferrying him around. Unexpectedly, we found ourselves feeling “useful” again. He needed us and there was something we could do to help make his life a little easier (GCSE maths and navigating secondary school in a world with social media are not areas I know much about).

I’ve also realised that being “the lift-giver” is a great way to meet the friends that start to fill such an important part of their lives, especially because you don’t always know them in the same way you knew their primary school pals.

I recently picked my daughter up from a football match along with five of her teammates. They had been victorious after a run of losses. I cranked up Miley Cyrus’ Wrecking Ball and we wailed all the way home. How often as adults do we get to (safely) throw our heads back and sing at the top of our voices? Not often enough, I say. I genuinely had a moment of “I think this is as good as it gets” as they cackled and sang and recounted their win. In my head, I also like to think they might even have been quietly impressed with my harmonies.

Thanks to Stranger Things, 90s nostalgia and TikTok, my playlist for the kids includes a lot of bangers from my childhood and, frankly, it makes being in the car with them a total joy. Cyndi Lauper, Journey, Madonna of the True Blue era, Oasis, TLC … I could go on – if you haven’t compiled your generation-pleasing car ride playlist yet, I’d recommend it.

At the moment, one evening a week, my eldest has a physio appointment and there’s no one home to look after my youngest. He’s tired and reluctant to leave the house, so I tussle him into the car with the promise of garage snacks. We drop the biggest one at physio, park up and he climbs in the front (a novelty in itself when you’re the youngest and always relegated to the back seat) and we do his spellings leaning on the dashboard.

This has become our little ritual; the bribe of snacks plus the bonus of getting homework done. Dare I say it, I think he actually looks forward to this moment with me (and, let’s face it, the snacks), whereas if we were at home I’d be trying to get something done and he’d be parked in front of the TV. We have also been known to take a full plate of dinner in the car, which feels way more exciting than sitting at the kitchen table.

The crux of it is, if you have kids, you are likely to spend a large amount of time schlepping them from A to B and back again. They are unlikely to show much gratitude for this service, but if I think back to when I was a teen – and we lived in a much more rural area than I do now – I was not profusely grateful, either. In fact, I was completely oblivious to it having any kind of impact on my parents’ lives at all. And as one of six children, my parents spent a lot of time driving us around.

Of course, it’s not always a joy ride. When you’re curled up on the sofa feeling “done” for the day and there’s a phone call (or abbreviated text) informing you of a change of plan that requires a pick up, nobody relishes the gauntlet run to the car in PJs. Often, the timings of various pickups and drop-offs can mean I just about have time to take my coat off but not long enough to do anything before putting it back on again. Sometimes, the kids get in the car and make it very clear that this isn’t a bonding moment as they instantly slide on their headphones.

But with my eldest having turned 15, I’m having a real moment of realisation that time with us all at home will come to an end. He will leave, they will all leave – and they’re meant to. When they’re toddlers that feels so far off but now it’s within reach and I can feel that shift taking place.

What I’m really saying is, I’ll take time with them where I can get it and, currently, that is often in the car. And on the upside, we’re only a couple of years away from my eldest being able to drive and I fully intend to call in some return pickups.

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