Better Late Than Never

I have always been a punctual person. I hated being late for school. If I arrived with less than 10 minutes before the bell rang, I felt like I was running late all day. I like being early and settling into my day, appointment, or whatever the task at hand.

Then Lucas came along and suddenly, I was always late.

We could be moments from going out the door and a diaper explosion would occur, delaying us in our journey. Or a spit up. Or crying bloody murder until he got a bottle etc. Now it's sometimes a chase around the house trying to put on boots or jackets. Lucas can actively deploy delay tactics to keep us from arriving at our destination on time.

This causes me great anxiety.

I believe when you are late, you are basically telling the other person that your time is more important than theirs. I had a boss several years ago that would close the door and start the meeting on time. This is a practice I carried along in my professional life, as if I had started a meeting late, it was disrespectful to those who arrived on time. I've had colleagues say they often accepted my meeting requests because they knew I would start and end on time, respecting the other priorities they had in their day.

So imagine how I must feel knowing that this 3-foot-nothing toddler can now wreak havoc with my clock and the calendar? Now when we say we will be somewhere, it is often preceded with an "around" or followed by an "ish." We will be there around 4ish.

I've had to relinquish my stranglehold on the clock, recognizing that late is better than never.