Getting everyone out the door on time feels like one wild marathon every single day. I’m sweating bullets, desperately searching for the car keys, and hollering for my kids to hop in the car while balancing a purse and a water bottle. Oh, and I need to pee again! I toss my bag and water bottle onto the kitchen island and dash to the bathroom, only to trip over a rogue shoe. I can’t help but wonder why no one in this house can simply replace the toilet paper roll. Meanwhile, the kids are already honking the horn, reminding me that, yes, we’re late—again.
I used to be the queen of punctuality. I was that person who showed up early to every appointment, meeting, and social gathering. Honestly, I don’t know how I pulled it off so effortlessly back then, but other people’s lateness definitely drove me nuts.
Then came the kids, and let’s just say that plan went out the window. Since then, I’ve been munching on a hefty serving of humble pie. Now, even when I’m kid-free, I struggle to arrive anywhere on time. Just the other day, my ex remarked, “You’re always late now.” Yeah, no kidding! With three kids and two dogs underfoot, it’s a miracle we even manage to leave the house at all.
He’s not wrong—I’m perpetually running behind. My lateness typically falls between 10 minutes (at best) to a half-hour (more like it). I can estimate how long it takes to get my crew ready; it’s just that somehow, even when I allow extra time, it gets devoured by unexpected distractions.
I’ve tried setting the clock ahead by ten minutes. Spoiler alert: it doesn’t work. We all know that trick; we look at the clock and think, “Sweet! I still have 10 minutes.” But instead of arriving early like I used to, I find myself frantically scribbling a grocery list that magically takes 20 minutes to complete, not to mention the five minutes spent hunting for a pen (only to settle on a broken crayon). And now, surprise—I’m 15 minutes late.
Here’s a fun fact: contrary to popular belief, latecomers aren’t necessarily rude, lazy, or selfish. Diana DeLonzor, author of Never Be Late Again, told the New York Times that those who are often late are actually producers; we thrive on squeezing as much into our time as possible. Do I get a kick out of knowing I have just three minutes to make my bed and dress? Absolutely. Do I feel accomplished when I manage to squeeze in one more chore before heading out? You can bet on it.
So, for those of us who are habitually behind, it’s all about hope. We believe we can juggle it all. And hey, being optimistic is good for your health! In other words, being late equals happy, healthy, and maybe even super-productive—kind of.
As moms, we need to maximize every second. It’s tough to keep an eye on the clock while untangling my daughter’s hair, searching for my son’s missing left shoe, and suddenly facing a “starving” crew right before we’re about to leave. I’d prefer to be a few minutes late because I had to grab snacks for the kids (and take a quick bathroom break) rather than endure a car ride filled with “I’m starving!” complaints or worse—unintentional Kegels.
I know it may seem like I don’t respect others’ time, but I genuinely do. Each day, I’m juggling a million little tasks and trying to extinguish the fires that flare up exactly two minutes before we need to leave. I’ve come to terms with our perpetual lateness and hope you’re okay starting without us. Deal?
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Summary:
This humorous take on the struggle with punctuality highlights the challenges faced by parents trying to juggle multiple responsibilities. The author reflects on how life changed with kids, leading to a perpetual state of running late, while also emphasizing that this doesn’t stem from a lack of respect for others’ time. The piece wraps up with a light-hearted acceptance of this reality and encourages readers to embrace the chaos.