Apparently, I am often late.
Well, I am late more often than I am early or on time.
OK, so I am always late. I am late to the point that my family no longer just makes fun of me behind my back, they now make fun of me to my face and in front of other people. In fact, a friend who also knows my parents gifted me with a fridge magnet that says, “I consider on time to be when I get there”.
The problem is that I don’t see myself as a late person. I would love to be on time, all the time. I distinctly remember a day when the twins were 18-months old. We were all ready to go out the door 15 minutes early. The pride I felt was enormous! I was feeling so confident that I actually answered the phone with a cup of coffee in hand. As I was standing there, bragging to a friend about my earliness, I felt my daughter next to me as she stage whispered, "Mommy? The brothers are doing something very, very bad." CRAP! "Gotta go", I told my friend and followed the girl at warp speed. She led me to the bathroom and said, "Sorry, Mommy, but I forgot to close the door when I was done brushing my teeth". Terrified of what I was about to see, I peeked around the corner. One boy was sitting in the bathroom sink. The other boy was standing in the sink, straddling the first boy. They were both furiously brushing their teeth. You might think that sounds harmless, even healthy. I did, too, until I realized that they also had the WATER RUNNING! The sink was full because the drain was plugged by a boy’s chubby little bum-bum. The sitting boy was drenched to his waist, the standing boy to his knees. I am talking about soaked socks, jeans, onesies, diapers, and sweatshirts. Late again…
With that episode in mind, it became evident to me that I haven’t been on time in years! How could I, a prompt-type person, have let my life deteriorate into this mess of lateness?
This required action. I googled a few self-help articles and mentally prepared myself to take back the clock! I had a morning playdate on the schedule and I was determined to use any and all recommended strategies for being “On Time”.
The night before the playdate, I helped the kids pick out their clothes. I considered actually putting them to bed dressed but then realized it was far too hot to do that (however, I may employ that technique during the winter months). I also got out my own clothes and left a bag of snacks, sunblock and ball caps by the back door. It was only 8:00pm and I was already well on my way to being “On Time” the following day!
The next morning, I got up 20 minutes before the kids, took a quick shower and started my coffee. They staggered into the kitchen to eat just as I was filling the bowls with cereal. I presented them with breakfast and a list: 1) Eat, 2) Get Dressed, 3) Brush Your Teeth. How hard can that be? I ran upstairs to finish myself up while they were eating.
Midway through combing my hair I heard, “Mom, can you please get me another bowl of cereal”? I ran down the stairs, filled the bowl, and ran back up.
Thirty seconds later I heard, “Mom, can I please have another glass of juice”? I ran down the stairs, filled the glass, and ran back up.
I had just begun to put some makeup on when I heard fighting in the bathroom. You all know the “I was first! No, I was!” argument, I’m sure. If you haven’t heard it from your children, you’ve certainly tossed it around a time or two yourself. I know that my kids didn’t invent it, however they are experts at enacting it. I ran down the stairs, broke up the fight, and ran back up.
I was brushing my teeth when I heard wailing from the boys’ room. It sounded like someone had lost a limb so I dropped my brush in the sink and went racing down the stairs with toothpaste dripping down my face. Imagine my relief when I discovered not a bloody stump, but a boy who would not be wearing the shirt that he had picked out the night before because he HATED it! We chose a more acceptable shirt and I ran back up the stairs.
This time I checked the clock. We had exactly 2 minutes to leave the house before we would be leaning towards late. I put my hair in a ponytail, grabbed my bag and ran back down the stairs screaming, “FIND YOUR SHOES!” at the top of my lungs. I herded the three kids out the back door and sent them running for the car, shoes in hand. Halfway there, I realized that the boys’ booster chairs were in the garage because their last ride had been in my husband’s car. “GRAB YOUR SEATS”, I yelled! The boys backtracked for their chairs and the girl put both hands on her buttocks and started laughing hysterically (oh yeah, we are just that kind of funny).
Finally, we were all in the car, buckled up and tearing down the 700 foot dirt trail that we call a driveway. As I stopped at the end of the drive, before pulling onto the main road, I looked over my shoulder to confirm that I had, in fact, left the house with all three children.
There they were – one boy wearing a pair of my gym socks with his sandals, another boy with his shirt on backwards, and a girl whose hair looked like she’d given herself a swirly and then run laps around the house to dry out. On top of all that, my steaming fresh mug o’ coffee was still on the kitchen counter.
But none of that mattered because we were still within shouting distance of “On Time”!
Then, a small voice spoke up from the confines of the backseat. “Mom”, he said. “I have to go pee. And it’s a mergency!”
So, I watched “On Time” fly down the road past us and welcomed “Always Late” back into the car.
Guess I’m going to have to make peace with that fridge magnet…
