It’s almost laughable how incongruent my life can be. For all of the undiagnosed mommy OCD related to order, cleanliness, and what not that I seem to have naturally inherited, I also have been plagued with an incurable case of the tardies. I think I am late for everything, and I don’t know why. Oh, wait, yes, I do. I have three kids all under the age of nine, and six days out of seven their agendas are drastically different than mine. We always scramble to get to where we are going. It has become a sickness.
I literally am a broken record most mornings as I say, “Kids, get your shoes on. Kids, get your shoes on. Kids, get your shoes on.” Then, it’s, “Kids, grab your backpacks; let’s go. Kids, grab your backpacks; let’s go. Kids, grab your backpacks; let’s go.” Most of the time my voice is not that monotone, but I have found that inflection typically doesn’t faze them either.
I stood in the line of shame this morning at the elementary school’s office, and not only was I in that line -- I was at the end of it. #WorstMomEver right here. It’s never fun to park your bus in order to sign in your tardy kids after the final bell has rung and the teachers that greet the carpoolers have all left the sidewalk. I wrangled the half dressed toddler from his seat, said, “Kids, grab your backpacks; let’s go” one last time, and walked with my chin down to the Main Office. I fumbled through the drop-down box on the computer screen to select reason for their tardy as I checked them in, and none of the selections fit. They didn’t miss a bus. They didn’t oversleep. We didn’t experience car trouble.
We were simply late. I don’t know why it happens, but it happens a lot. It even happens on the days that I consciously awake a whole hour early just to ensure that they are there at the sound of that first bell. I chose “Other.” I don’t know what it means, but today I had no reason for my kids’ tardy other than feeling like we are running everywhere all the time and never getting there on time! I even set my watch 10 minutes ahead. Dear hubby sets our alarm clock 20 minutes ahead to fake his brain out when he must wake up before the crack of dawn. I can’t do that. I just can’t roll out of bed before there’s sunlight.
Never miss a local story.
There’s just no explanation for my chronic case of tardiness and its progressive attack on our days, but I am chalking today’s tardy up to end-of-the-year fever. I have it. My kids clearly have it. I believe the teachers may also have it as homework assignments stopped coming home two weeks ago. How about you?