The Writing Mamas Daily Blog

Each day on the Writing Mamas Daily Blog, a different member will write about mothering.

If you're a mom then you've said these words, you've made these observations and you've lived these situations - 24/7.

And for that, you are a goddess.

Saturday, February 09, 2008

 

Late

No matter how early I get up, I’m always late in bringing my daughter to school.

After spending a couple of hours at my desk writing in the morning, one would think that this initial sense of accomplishment would propel me to ensure that I would succeed in getting my daughter out the door, in the car and into her classroom on time.

It doesn’t.

It seems like there is always something. And that something always seems to come during the last, critical five minutes before school departure. My five-year old will suddenly have to go to the bathroom; need me to admire her output; wipe her bottom; want a different breakfast; have a stain that can’t be hidden; can’t find a sock; doesn’t like her shoes; hasn’t brushed her teeth; asks if she has to go to aftercare; cries that she has to go to aftercare; wants to have a spirited discussion on why she has to go to school at all.

Those five minutes are the difference between getting to school on time and missing the second bell.

I always think, “Made it!” when the bell hasn’t rung. When it already has, I have to make a decision. Do I press my daughter through the classroom door, where all the other children are already sitting neatly at their desks, and smile at or avoid the teachers, or admit defeat and trudge into the school office and ask for a late slip.

Gail, the women at the front desk, already knows my name. I can only attribute this to our tardiness.

I wish I could figure out a way to magically make us arrive at school on time. But the truth is that I have been late for everything my entire life, including my own wedding, so it’s really no surprise that I’m late when bringing my daughter to school.

Or that my daughter is late on her own. The thing about progeny is that they inherit the good and the not so good. Oddly, for some reason, I’m always one of the first mothers for school pick-up. And Mimi is always one of the first kids in line waiting to be picked up.

She loves to possesively shout, “My mommy’s here!” her hand waving wildly in the air as her Hello Kitty! backpack wiggles behind her.

While school mornings usually have insane beginnings, afternoon pickups almost always have happy endings.

By Dawn Yun

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