Admittedly, moving around the city with kids, dropping them off, getting them from one place to another – that structures my daily rhythm. I appreciate it that although I do not own a car, I can organize life so that I manage to get them [to the kindergarten] in the morning. And that it also gives me a sort of sense of freedom, that I’m dependent on someone else, that I manage it all on my own and that the city kind of makes things easier for me, that there is a bike path almost all the way between my house and the kindergarten and I don’t have to be worried about getting hit by a car. That also gives me a sense of security. I feel good here as a mom. When my children are sick and I call the doctor, I get an appointment the same day and not only in two days like my sister in Poland. I feel a sort of institutional support here. It’s also connected to my kindergarten: we have a good exchange [with the staff] there, I can talk to them about my children. Or at the doctor’s: I feel well informed, there are lots of alternatives, I can go not only to a pediatrician, but also to a homeopathic healer or an osteopath, there are various points of view, and I can pick the way I find best suited for myself. I don’t feel pressured to think that there’s only one truth. Or that I can go to a supermarket or an organic foods store, and it’s only up to me. … [About the sun and the cloud] In a mom’s life there are bright and dark days. The sun? Here, in the bike trailer, is where my two little rays of sunshine sit. I also associate the sun with freedom, with space, with movement, with being independent – probably because I mainly bike when the weather is good. When it’s pouring down or when it’s slippery, or when it’s very windy, as it sometimes happens – once the wind blew so hard that it pushed the trailer off the bike path – then I take the tram. And the clouds? Obviously, there are also worse days: sometimes I don’t get enough sleep, sometimes I just don’t have enough patience.