Being late can feel quite disrespectful, and I completely understand why. I’ve been on both sides of the punctuality spectrum, and it can be frustrating. But today, I want to share a little secret: I consider myself to be an organized and timely individual who just happens to be navigating the chaotic world of parenting. Yes, it’s true, my little ones have a knack for making me look bad in front of others.
Let me break down the reasons why my tardiness isn’t entirely my fault:
- My 3-year-old daughter has a remarkable ability to derail my plans with her choice of attire. She’s adorable, but every time we step outside, she seems determined to look like a whirlwind of mismatched chaos. For those who might say, “You’re her parent; you should have control,” I assure you that her decision-making skills rival those of a seasoned negotiator.
- My 8-year-old son has an uncanny talent for procrastination. He would rather engage in existential debates about sock-wearing or create vampire maps than complete his actual responsibilities, like brushing his teeth.
- There’s the classic pre-activity food refusal. It’s as if children have a radar that tells them when snacks are out of reach.
- My kids move at a pace rivaled only by molasses. When I urge them to “hurry up!” it’s like the very act of my request weighs them down even more.
- Their level of helpfulness is astonishingly low. They seem completely indifferent to the concept of timeliness, and their arms appear to be made of cooked spaghetti when it comes to carrying anything.
- The sheer volume of “stuff” we need to take with us is staggering. Snacks, drinks, spare clothes—you name it. Our vehicle looks like a mobile storage unit dedicated to all things child-related.
- The inevitable meltdown is often mine. By the time we reach the car, I’m usually a few steps away from losing it completely as I watch them just stand there.
- Out of nowhere, there’s the last-second poop ambush. It’s almost comical how often this happens, and I suspect that the sound of the car door closing somehow triggers this response.
- Their faces! I often don’t realize how dirty they are until we’re en route, and I’m left aghast at the remnants of their last meal that seem to have taken up residence on their cheeks.
- And then there’s my own forgetfulness. In my frantic attempts to remember everything—like my daughter’s beloved toy and my son’s water—I completely lose track of where we are headed and why it matters.
So, if you see me looking a little frazzled next time we meet, please extend some grace my way. I promise I’m trying, even if my kids seem determined to thwart every effort. And just so you know, that outfit? Totally not my choice.
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In summary, while being late is often seen as rude, the chaos of parenting can create a perfect storm of delays that are often out of my control. So next time, if I show up a bit late, just know that it’s all part of the adventure.