I’m the Mom Who Can’t Seem to Get It Together

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My kids have ukulele lessons every Tuesday at 11 a.m. without fail. The lessons are held just a stone’s throw from my home, yet every Tuesday at the same hour, I receive texts from their instructor, “Are you on your way?” “It’s 11 a.m.!” “Everything alright?” By that time, we’re clearly not making it. I’m aware it’s Tuesday and I know it’s 11 a.m., but somehow, I fail to connect the dots to ukulele lessons. Spoiler alert: we’re not fine either, considering I can’t even manage to get my children to a simple music class that’s basically in my backyard.

This is par for the course. On Thursday mornings, we had a homeschool co-op, but I often forgot about it or would plan playdates instead. Inevitably, I found myself double-booked, having to decide between socializing through free play or through academics—both of which hold equal importance in my eyes, making the decision a challenge.

Monday afternoons were a bit more manageable, as my oldest son was obsessed with Swim and Gym at the YMCA and constantly reminded me. While I’d be caught up thinking about school, preparing lunch, or making a quick run to Target, he would interrupt with, “Mama, we have Swim and Gym today!” He did the same when it was time for him to babysit his friend Leo. “It’s Leo Day!” he’d exclaim upon waking. My heart would drop. Sure enough, it was indeed Leo Day. I’m relying on a six-year-old to keep track of our schedule!

Don’t even think about me remembering doctor’s appointments. I need to put everything in my phone just to keep on top of things. I wish I could automate it, but I always end up manually entering each event. I’ve tried to simplify my life with technology, but somehow, I still find myself in a mess.

It’s not just a matter of forgetting. I’m also perpetually late. I’ve calculated it takes about an hour for each child to get ready—which means that moms of eight must never sleep! To be on time, I need to start my day three hours prior to any event. This can go one of two ways. In one scenario, I get sidetracked on the internet, sipping coffee and doing my makeup, while the kids refuse to get dressed. Suddenly, I realize I have twenty minutes to drive somewhere that’s twenty minutes away, and no one has brushed their teeth yet—not to mention that I haven’t stopped at Starbucks. Cue the panic as we end up half an hour late.

In the alternate scenario, I wake up those same three hours early, feed the kids quickly, find them clothes, and manage my own makeup. The internet is quiet, and we brush our teeth. Then, I look at the clock and see we have an entire hour to spare before we need to leave. So, we leisurely let the dogs in and out, put on our shoes at a snail’s pace, and strap everyone into the car. But, of course, we have to swing by Starbucks first. Even our drive is slow. We manage to arrive half an hour early, and if we’re visiting someone, we just circle around aimlessly or try to entertain ourselves until the hosts show up.

Punctuality is a foreign concept to us. And looking polished? That’s not happening either. My kids often look like they’ve just rolled out of bed—wild hair and all. We usually forget to brush our teeth. The baby sometimes shows up without shoes, because he has a talent for tossing them out of the car. I’m that mom who forgets the water bottle, the snacks, and honestly, half the essentials for any activity we’re attending.

As a result, I’ve become synonymous with the stereotype of a disorganized mess. It’s a running joke that I’m either early or late, never right on time. At the end of the day, it might seem worse than it is, but I still come across as the frazzled mom, and people worry my kids are suffering because of it. Truthfully, they’re not—thankfully, I have friends who are understanding. I wish I could be like those “normal” moms who arrive precisely at 11 a.m. with juice boxes and neatly styled hair, but that’s just not my reality.

So, for now, we’ll keep showing up either a half-hour late or a half-hour early. And don’t expect perfect hairstyles. If that’s a dealbreaker for you, then maybe we’re not meant to be friends. Ultimately, this has become a good litmus test for friendship, and for that, I’m grateful.

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Summary: This article explores the chaotic life of a mom who struggles with organization and punctuality, sharing humorous anecdotes about her challenges in managing her children’s activities and maintaining a semblance of order. Despite the chaos, she embraces her unique parenting style and the understanding of her friends.