Running Late

I have a bad habit of running late to most things. I am almost always late for church, a doctor's appointment, you name it. I think my problem is I don't understand how fast time actually goes.

I wake up on Sunday mornings around 7 a.m. and still find myself struggling to get out the door at 10:30 (church starts at 10:30). It always feels like I have plenty of time, but for some reason I don't. It could be my routine.

I wake up at 7 a.m. with my two-year-old daughter. We have breakfast and then I take a shower. I do my hair and makeup while my little girl plays around me and has me put a little blush on her face too. At a little after nine, I'm ready and my little girl has her outfit laid out for her to put on right before we leave, otherwise, it wouldn't last the hour.

Now, the next few steps is where I go wrong; the first being the biggest.

At 9:30 I get my soon-t0-be five-year-old son up. I spend the next hour running back and forth between my son and getting everything put together, the diaper bag, snacks, etch. Mostly, I spend the time with my son.

"Time to get up honey." Walking by his room.

"Get up honey." Walking by his room again.

"Get up NOW SON." Standing in his doorway.

"I am up mom." Still under the covers

"No you're not, you are still in bed." Hand on hip.

"But I'm awake mom." Muffled cause his face is still under covers.

"Your clothes are on your bed. Get dressed please."

"I need your help mom, I don't know how to put my clothes on."

"Yes you do, I'm trying to get your sister dressed, put your clothes on now."

Running into my room to show me...
"Are my pants on right mom?" "Yes."
Running back into his room.

Running into my room to show me...
"Is my shirt on right mom?" "Yes."
Running back into his room.

Running into my room to show me...
"Is my sock on right mom?" "Yes."
Running back into his room.

Running into my room to show me...
"Is my other sock on right mom?" "Yes."
Running back into his room.

"I wanna wear my Spiderman shoes mom." "They don't match your outfit, put those on."

"I wanna wear my Spiderman shoes." "No honey, you're wearing those."

"I wanna wear my Spiderman shoes." "Wear those or go barefoot, your choice."

"I want my Star Wars jacket." "Your Star Wars Jacket is dirty, you have to wear this jacket."

"I want my Star Wars jacket." "Your Star Wars jacket is dirty, you have to wear this jacket."

"I want my Star Wars jacket." "Your Star Wars jacket is dirty, you have to wear this jacket."
By this time he's standing at the top of the stairs crying as if his jacket was a living thing that had just met an untimely death.

"I want my Star Wars jacket."

And we walk out the door with a two-year old looking all pretty, a mom with bloodshot eyes, a dad who is most likely sleepwalking, and a soon-to-be five-year-old with a nice church outfit, Spiderman shoes, and a dirty Star Wars jacket. Wonder why I'm always late?