No Longer Punctual

As I look back at my former self (Pre-Mom that is) one thing I was rather proud of was my punctuality. I was ALWAYS on time, if not ridiculously early. I was even early when trying to be fashionably late. I'd try to show up 30mins—to an hour into a party only to find that my definition of fashionably late meant I was there with the host still getting ready and 5 or so of their family members whom I didn't know. (Hmmm, good times)

I can vividly remember my dad sitting in the car, loaded with whatever crap is needed for six kids going where ever, sighing (ok, groaning and perhaps a whispered cuss word or two under his breath), looking at his watch, followed by a "Where the hell is your mother? What is taking her so long?"
Then 10-15 minutes later, my mom would trot out to the car and we'd be on our way.

As I prepared to leave the house this weekend, I made a mental note of my actions. Suddenly it all made sense. Why no matter how hard I try and how early I start getting ready, I leave my house when I am supposed to arrive at our destination (how late I am depends on how far away you live from me) and why my mom was the last one in the car-ALWAYS.

Here's what I mean.

I had 15 minutes before I planned to walk out the door:
  • I went to the basement to get my shoes telling my older children we are leaving in 5 minutes (yes, a little white lie, but who's counting) and to get ready to go
  • Where I realized the dryer had stopped so I switched a load (so more would be finished when I got home)
  • Being thirsty I grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge noticing the stock was low, so I refilled all the beverages (since I am the only one in my house who is apparently qualified for such a task)
  • As I headed back up stairs, I noticed a few items worthy of the garbage, so I grabbed them to be pitched
  • Once in the kitchen, the garbage was full so I tied up the bag, took it back to the basement for disposal
  • Once back in the kitchen I inserted a fresh bag in the garbage can (since that is a major pet-peeve of mine, I couldn't let it go)
  • Then off to check the diaper bag and confirm it is fully stocked, telling Alex & Anna I am walking out the door (that's 2 if you're keeping score)
  • Up to the third floor for a few more diapers and the baby
  • Who, while I thought was clean, had apparently eaten her last meal bib-less and required a change (with a mental note to include this outfit with the brights I would be washing later that evening)
  • Back downstairs to find Alex, Anna & Pete completely oblivious to the fact that we are going somewhere
  • Help Alex find shoes
  • Come across the cordless phone and replace on the charger while looking for DS
  • Shove the kids & husband out the door
  • Walk through the house turning off lights, tv's, shutting blinds, etc...
And lastly, put on my sunglasses, grab my purse and trot out to the car and we were on our way.


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