Late. Again. And again. 

I used to be really, really good at being on time. I also used to never miss an appointment. I never cancelled things last minute. I always showed up when I said I would. 

And then I became a mom. 

I learned that life runs on no schedule. The hours can pass in all kinds of ways. I will cancel things. I will almost certainly let people down. I will be perennially 10-20 minutes late. I am sure there are moms who still run on schedule and still always show up where and when their calendar says. I am not that mom. 

It’s been really hard for me to adjust. I’ve snapped and yelled and blamed people — usually Husband. I’ve set alarms and timers and used Google calendars and ToDo and iCal. This is just how life is now. It is messy. It is so very exceptionally messy. 

I’ve (mostly) learned to be okay with this, and all due to the people who surround me these days. We have therapists who roll with it. We have friends who know that cancellations aren’t about a lack of love — just the way our lives might be flowing right now. Their willingness to be with us when we show up has helped me start realizing showing up isn’t about the time. Not really. It’s the effort (we do still try, I swear, even though I sound like a flake). It’s the presence. It’s the connection. Rushing never connected me to my kids. It didn’t even connect me to myself. It was about being “the girl who is always on time”. Now I’m the “mom who is a mess”. I’m a mess! But I am me.

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