For as long as I can remember I've been punctual . . . maybe a little too punctual. I was the person that you could count on to show up when l said I would, if not earlier. You wouldn't know that though, because I'd most likely be driving around the block a few times to waste a couple minutes. I was actually given an award in high school for always being on time. Pretty cool, huh? Actually, pretty dorky when I think about it now.
Back before my stay at home mom days, when I had a full time job, I had a bit of a commute and allowed myself plenty of extra time to pick up a coffee on my way in. I'd also calculate in the fear of bad traffic. Phhhhhttt, what a joke. Most mornings I left before the birds were chirping, and I'd arrive to work a half hour early. I didn't get paid to be there early, so I'm not really sure why I continued to do this day after day. Probably because arriving early was far better than the sudden sense of "OH MY GOD, I'M GOING TO BE LATE." That happened once, during a blizzard, when most normal people would have just banged in with a personal or sick day. I wish I had calculated all those wasted half hours of being early for work into some sort of extra sleep category, 'cause maybe then I'd be a little more rested for what was to come . . . KIDS! See ya later, punctuality.
Don't get me wrong, I really try my best to be on time for things, it doesn't always happen though. Here are a few reasons why:
- Breakfast time is more often than not similar to watching paint dry. Somehow my kids manage to sit there and pick at their plates for a very long time, but when they finally decide they're done most of the food is still there. It's like magic . . . but with food. One second you see it, an hour later it's still there! (I wish I could have pulled off that type of magic with my kids leftover Halloween candy.) They play it off like they're eating and I don't interfere, because I actually think they are eating, but they're not. They're pretty slick. I'll usually find some minuscule bites nibbled off of a cereal bar, or a half eaten grape. They usually do this during lunch and dinner too. Apparently, eating food that you're not really eating takes a long time. Sometimes I wonder why I even offer them meals, and often question if they are living off of the water and toothpaste they eat during teeth brushing time. Needless to say, I try to plan play dates around the meals that they take forever to eat, but don't really eat. "Sorry we're late, friends. It took a really long time to eat those two Cheerios and that blueberry this morning."
- One thing that causes the drill sergeant mom in me to
come out is getting my kids up, fed, dressed and out the door in time for 8:30 AM preschool drop off. Thank God this only
happens two days a week because these mornings make me feel like a crazy
person. First off, my kids always decide
to sleep in on school days . . . never on weekends, never on home days, only on
school days. This forces me to wake them up, and let me tell you, it's not always pretty. Just this morning
(home day) I received my payback. I was woken up at 5 AM by singing . . . very LOUD
singing. It was as if I were at a Katy Perry concert, sitting right next to the
speaker as she sang her latest hit, Roar. (Except it wasn't Katy Perry, it was
my three year old, it was 5 AM, and it was indeed a home day.) This was not a pretty moment for me and I
swear it would have been fine if it were a school day. But no, I have to drag them out of bed on
school days, as they clench their blankets and beg me not to. (This has got to be some sort of Murphy's
law.) After dragging my girls out of
bed, I'll attempt to give the whole mealtime thing a whirl. Usually after a half hour of me watching the clock and them pretending to eat I'll tend to rush
them along as they lick the syrup off of their uneaten waffles then, I'll
usually praise them for eating a strawberry . . . or something. I'll rush to get them dressed, brush their
teeth and do their hair. Remember I have
girls, getting them dressed and doing their hair is often a project. The tooth brushing part is a piece of cake
since they live off of, I mean live for toothpaste. After all of this is done, I'll bundle them
up and get ready to head out.
- The other morning as we were about to head out the door my oldest informed me that she had to go to the bathroom. While I was assisting her, my youngest hid the car keys in one of her fathers shoes, she then informed me that she had to use the potty too. After that I got their coats back on and realized that my keys were missing. When I asked where they were, I got silence. I said something like, "Well, I guess we'll just have to take naps all day since we can't go out and do anything fun." The response from my two year old resembled a bunch of fake sneezes, "A SHOE - A SHOE". While I began questioning if those pretend sneezes were real sneezes, my oldest said that the keys must be in a shoe. Bingo, found them! Time to go! Strapping my puffy coated kids into their car seats is never fun and often time consuming, but it's got to be done. And we were finally off . . . only to get two minutes down the street and have to stop for what seems like 100 wild turkeys s-l-o-w-l-y crossing the road. We totally would have missed that giant flock of birds if someone didn't hide my car keys.