I’m always late

At the beginning of the year, I posted this, swiftly followed by this. The first post is a list of resolutions I knew I had no intention of keeping and at number ten I haphazardly vowed to try to be on time more. I KNEW that would never happen. But now, after yesterday, I’m bumping it up to the second list: resolutions I want to make happen.
Yesterday I encountered the worse ever kind of being late. Far, far worse than screeching into your work’s carpark with an excuse already on your lips. Worse than the icy smiles the doctor’s receptionist gives you when you bluster through the doors two minutes late and get to wait a whole forty-five minutes for your appointment anyway. This was LATE. This was sitting on my hands, heart pounding, head swimming and panic rising like fire LATE. I was late.
We took the baby to nursery yesterday to keep him in his routine and took the big one to the cinema at the Trafford Centre. We had to pick up my sister on the way back and hit traffic. If anyone knows the roads around the Trafford Centre at 5pm they’ll know its not good. At 5.45 I rang nursery to tell them we would be LATE.
I felt like the world’s worse mother. I felt an all-consuming rage as the car sat in traffic, as useless as a lump of useless-ness. I LOATHED the young guy in the next lane with his ridiculous music and his loathsome way of singing along. I hated the jeep infront that kept lurching forwards, giving the illusion of a magical break in the traffic, only to dazzle us with its big red brake lights once more. I was livid with the traffic lights that kept turning green and yet the traffic remained standing.

Image source: imageshack.us

The whole time I was thinking of my baby and the fact he was at nursery, waiting for me. And I was LATE.
We got to him at 6.15, fifteen minutes after it closed and the building was dark. The carpark was empty. The doors were open and four of the staff were stood in the entrance, waiting for us. The baby was propped on the hip of one of the girls with his coat zipped to the neck and his bag packed by the door. I couldn’t even speak. I felt so ashamed. I mumbled some apologies and when I took my baby I felt like such an idiot for bursting into tears. Its not like I abonded him, but thats how it felt. I’d always felt so sorry for the kids at school who get picked up late and always vowed, naiively, that I would never do that to my kids. I would never be the parent who criminally has something to do whilst my kids are being cared for by others. But now I am.

Incidentally, we got in the car and the baby did not hold it against us. he smiled, babbled and clapped all the way home. Me? I smiled too. I think NOW I will do something about those resolutions…

5 responses to “I’m always late

  • steph curtis

    Ah, sometimes things happen you have no control over, that’s life! I’m sure everybody’s been late once.. or twice! I live in fear of being late so am constantly stressed trying to get out the door to where we need to be, in a way I wish I could be more relaxed about it. Not good for the blood pressure I’m sure! Like you said, he won’t remember 🙂

  • jaynecrammond

    :-O You terrible mother!

    No, I’m kidding, don’t let it get to you, no-one is perfect, being late once will not hurt anyone, and if the nursery staff want to be judgemental bitches, let them, i bet they aren’t perfect either.

  • Circus Queen

    I’m sure you’re not the first mother they’ve waited for. I’m always late. It’s like a disease. I too am desperately trying to change, though people joke with me that you can take the girl out of the island but you can’t take the island out of the girl.

  • Lady Estrogen

    I think being early is a part of my OCD – I get anxious, sweaty and the back of my neck gets prickly if I know I’m not going to be at least 10min early – anything less than that is cutting it way to close for comfort! lol.

  • mummy@bodfortea

    I would feel exactly the same, but please don’t beat yourself up over it! Like you say, babe was fine. Everyone is late sometimes. Good luck with your resolution though 😀

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: