Friday, November 4, 2011

Lateness Drives My Son Crazy

Every morning it's the same thing with my son. He hates to be late to school. Doesn't even like to be on-time. He has to get there early. I don't know where he got it from - I'm late . . . a lot. I look at the clock and see that I have fifteen minutes before I absolutely have to leave and decide that I can put a load of laundry into the washer, find a picture frame I've needed from the garage, and package up a book I've promised to send to someone. This ultimately adds a lot of stress to my life, and yes, makes me late.

Basically, I have more to do in one day than hours available to do them in, and this is why try to pack so much into every moment. But I realize it's not a great habit.

So, every morning at 8am my son starts to remind me that it's time to go. School starts at 8:40 and we live 5 minutes away, but he knows me. "Mom, let's go. It's time to go," he tells me. "8:15 we'll go," I promise. But he doesn't let up. About every minute or so he tells me again that we have to go and that we're going to be late. I start to get frustrated and try to ignore him, because if I don't focus on what I'm doing, I'm going to forget to take something I have to take with me as I walk out the door. Pretty soon it's 8:20 and he begins to pace and complain. "Jeeze, let's go. You don't need anything else. We're going to be late. Forget the coffee. Jeeze, Mom, what's wrong with you?" What's wrong with me? I've raised a spoiled, loud mouth kid, that's what's wrong with me.

But after I drop him off at school and he runs off with barely a good-bye, I get this warm feeling inside. I'm so proud of him for wanting to get to school on time, and for being so excited to get there. I know it's because he wants to hang out with friends before the bell rings, but still. What a great kid. Someday, he's going to be a fantastic asset to a company or his own business (and a bit of an annoying husband).

So today he calmly suggests that I plan to leave the house at 8am so that we will really leave at 8:15. I ask myself if he's really twelve, then unable to resist I give him a hug and tell him I'm proud of him for being so responsible. "Mom, really? I hate being late. Can we leave on time?"

"Yes," I tell him and I decide the laundry can wait and I'll buy a cup of coffee before I get to the university, and I'll mail that book tomorrow, and I don't need to hang that picture yet anyway. He got to school early and I got the the university on time and right now, I feel really good.

Wishing you all a great weekend with no stress and no craziness!


No comments:

Post a Comment