I used to be fairly cognizant of time, paranoid of being late or holding people up. From the time I started having control of my arrival times I've always been first to classes and I even had to consciously stall so I wasn't the very first person to parties. I would pester my mom to hurry up and even fib about what time something started so she'd leave the house in enough time. It's always been that way, I'm just timely.
I always cringed when people walked in late to something, and when "that mom" with the three kids came in all disheveled and late I was SO happy I didn't "have my hands full" and forget I even made plans with someone.
Then, I had three kids.
My family consistently arrives ten minutes late. We start out hours before, getting everyone ready and, miraculously, we're late. A few weeks ago we almost missed one of our dearest friend's change of command. I was so red and flushed I thought I'd die of embarrassment. Not from the kids running up and down the stairs while all these uniformed people talked about stuff I didn't care about...because we were late!
One day it's Monday, the next it's 5 weeks later. I have all sorts of cards and packages for Christmas that still need to go out. Friends, I do love you. I can't even click and print a label because I forget what I'm doing half the time. It's not you, it's me.
I'm just happy to make it places, let alone be on time. We usually trip in the door to the library story time and, I am "that mom" all disheveled and crazy looking. It's probably my unkempt eyebrows that are crazy looking. I digress...
Even worse, today, the boys and I had a standing date with a dear friend and there she stood, in the cold, two kids in tow, knocking at my door for over 30 minutes. I had walked to a neighbors house to drop something off and totally lost track of time. Lame, no? Life right now.
So, to everyone out there. I apologize. I really do. I hate being late and losing track of time. I said I'd never do it, but, here I stand...late.