Late is a 4-Letter Word Too

Do you remember the days when you woke up 15 minutes before you had to be somewhere and yet you somehow managed to make it on time? How about being able to pick up and go to Taco Bell just for the heck of it? Yeah, me neither, but I know I used to be able to do it. Then I had kids.

Do you also remember that lady who could never make it to anything on time? Yeah, I see her every day. In fact, she’s usually glaring at me in my bathroom mirror. “Hurry up! You’ve got a nice busy day ahead of you and sleep is so overrated. You can catch up on it in 15 years. Let’s go!”

Amanda's post on 7/26 had me thinking about being constantly late, in actuality, I'm lucky to even make it out the door. I don’t ever recall reading in any of my parenting books that I would now have to revert to being that woman that people sneer at for being late or make snide remarks about. “How hard is it to be on time? Maybe we should tell her it starts an hour earlier so she’ll make it.” These people OBVIOUSLY don’t have young children and the typical preparation for an outing usually goes something like this:

“Alright, I’m dressed, the kids are dressed, we need shoes. Peri, get your shoes on. Ryah, come here.... I’ve got the library books to return and the book bag to carry the new books in. Peri, get your shoes on. Ryah, come here.... Ah, I can’t forget to drop off that package at the post office on the way. Where’s my purse? Peri, get over here and put your shoes on, NOW! No, Ryah, put your clothes back on!... Where’s the diaper bag, dang, only one left; I’ll have to pick some more up while I’m out. What?! No wipes! Grrrr, that too. Ohmygawd, Child, seriously, put your shoes on so we can go! Don’t you want new books? Ack! Ryah, get out of the pantry! No, don’t eat the baker’s chocolate!.................”


And we’re an hour late. My, where did the time go. Oh yes, after the chocolate came the second bath and we started all over again. This would definitely be one of those times where I could have ran all of my errands in the amount of time it took to get us out the door to do it. *sigh* And some people wonder why I don’t leave the house. Because it’s almost an Olympic Event and if I’m going to compete, I want a gold medal for my efforts. Or at least a really big candy bar and a massage.