Let me start out by staying that I do try to be on time. It’s not that I don’t care or I think my time is more important than yours. But, for whatever reason I am always running late. No matter what I do, I am rushing to everything (get this; my married name is Rushing). Is someone trying to tell me something?
To get ahead of the game, I will get up extra early in the mornings. I have everything ready by the door so we can just grab and go. If we have plans on the weekend, I always prep the food, diaper bag and anything else I need to prep for and have it packed in the car 24 hours in advance (yes, I packed so well that I forgot the stroller at home for a weekend outing).
Does all this extra prepping make a difference? Hell no!
It gets better. Not only am I running late, but now I have the never ending anxiety that goes along with being late. I am mad at myself, mad that I will be late and mad that as always someone is going to be pissed at me.
But, I do have an excuse. I have Madeleine and she makes me late. Does that suffice as an excuse? Can I get the “get out of jail free card?”
Look, the funniest things happen to make me late. I know you probably think when I arrive late, that I am giving you a pile of bullshit, but I am being completely honest. The weirdest things happen when you have a toddler and unfortunately those weird things make me late, so it’s really not my fault.
I Have No Shame – Here Are 5 Reasons Why It’s Madeleine’s Fault
Did She Just Poop?
Of course she did. A new fresh diaper….it’s the perfect time to take a dump. Yes, it really does happen (Murphy’s Law). No matter what, she seems to always have a poopy diaper right before we leave. I have come to learn that she finds a fresh diaper to be the most suitable condition to poop, which results in two diaper changes before we can even get out the door.
If you are not a parent, you might be rolling your eyes at this point. Well, just wait until you have kids, the poop timing is real. This can set you back at least five minutes.
Usually when she sees me coming, she thinks its hide and go seek time. The next feat I have is wrestling her to the changing table where the crying ensues. Now after changing the stinky thing, I need to disinfect my hands. All of this takes time, believe me.
Toddler’s Five Course Meal.
Madeleine likes to enjoy her food as if she is dining in a fine restaurant with a five course meal. She eats slow and savors every morsel, despite her Mama needing to get somewhere on time. It doesn’t matter to her. Time is not important in her world and I get that. But, what she doesn’t understand is the rest of the world doesn’t work that way and her mom can get into trouble from time to time.
Who Doesn’t Love a Tantrum?
Anyone who has had kids knows that tantrums occur at a moment’s notice. There is never a warning that the volcano is about to abrupt, it just happens. One minute she is happy as a clam and then the next minute she is throwing herself on the floor. I just stop and wonder “what the F_ _ _ just happened?
When volcano Madeleine erupts it’s a full on tantrum. She throws herself on the floor, kicking and screaming. I stare in horror and maybe a bit of admiration. She really can pull it off…..she makes me melt into whatever she wants just from the pure horror that I just witnesses. I never really thought kids actually threw themselves on the floor. I thought that just happened in the movies?
So, I try and regroup. I give her a new distraction, in the hopes that I can get out the door before anything else happens. Madeleine doesn’t understand the importance of where we are going or what being on time means. Maybe she is on to something? Maybe the adults who care about being on time are the weird ones. Maybe if we cared less about some of these things, we would be living happier lives?
Torture Chamber for Toddlers.
Ever since we went on an 1,800 mile road trip this summer she hasn’t wanted to get in her chair. Can I blame her?
I know it’s not fun for the kids. Toddlers want to run and play. I understand. However, unless Madeleine wants me to pull a Britney Spears, she is going to have to get tied into her chair.
Have you ever seen a toddler arch her back, kick her legs and have a meltdown all at the same time? Well, that’s what happens in my car and suffice to say its torture to get her in the car. I timed the experience and it takes over 6 minutes to get her in the car.
I know it’s not an excuse to be late, but what do people want me to do, get up at the butt crack of down just to be somewhere on time? Isn’t there a 10 minute buffer on being late? Well, I use this buffer every time.
Road Trip or an Afternoon Outing?
Packing for an afternoon outing should be pretty simple, right? So I thought. I make at least three trips back and forth to the car before I can even start the car. You would think we were going on vacation with the amount of gear that I need to leave the house with.
During a typical work week, I usually leave the house with my purse, gym bag, her school bag, lunch pack, work messenger bag, and last but not least the dry cleaning bag. Okay, so most of this stuff is mine, but so what….it wasn’t this hard before she was born. Life just got that much heavier with Madeleine and it takes that much work to get out the door. By the way….she’s not very helpful. She can’t carry a darn thing.
Trying to pinpoint what actually makes me late is really difficult. If you take five minutes here and five minutes there, it starts to add up. Before you know it, you are a half hour late and your friend is giving you the evil eye as she looks at her watch. Look, I understand. I completely get it…..it’s not fair, it’s rude and there is no excuse. But nothing changes and I am still late.
The more I think about it the more I realize nothing is going to get better. Trust me, I have tried and tried to get faster, plan better and set my clock an hour ahead. Nothing makes a difference; I am always going to be late. This is why I decided that I don’t care anymore.
I have decided to let it go…..I am not going to win this battle, so I surrender to the thought of always being late. It’s just how it is. Now, accept it.