For as long as I can remember, I’ve been a very scheduled person. Spontaneous is just not something I’ve ever been mistaken for. In addition to being scheduled, for the vast majority of my life, I’ve also been very punctual. Let me take that back. I’m not punctual, I’m habitually early. I can’t stand tardiness. I take it as a personal assault if someone is late for something I plan (other than those things you are SUPPOSED to be “fashionably” late for, of course). My staff loves this about me. My family, maybe not as much, but they adapt. All of them except for Pumpkin.
Since Pumpkin’s arrival I’ve had more and more difficulty being on time, much less early. Yet, however hard Pumpkin has railed against my promptness, I have subconsciously battled back to ensure that even if I can’t be on time to any social functions ever again, I am always on time to work. Let me correct myself again, that I am always EARLY to work. This feat is especially difficult considering Pumpkin loves her sleep and is NOT a morning person (but she does have cute Elmo PJS - see photo). Even though, like Pumpkin, I, too, hate waking up, I have, for some unknown reason, put it in my own head that I need to arrive at the office at least twenty minutes before “morning coffee,” which takes place thirty minutes before work. In other words, I have had a self-imposed arrival time approximately one hour before I was expected to be here. It goes hand-in-hand with my self-declared “casual Friday” when I was in college (and when everyone else had casual every day). It’s a sickness really, I can admit that.
But as she has a way of doing, Pumpkin has helped me to let go of some of my obsessive, controlling reigns. Despite her resistance, and if I do say so myself, we did have morning readiness down to an art – even with one bathroom during our recent renovations, we were morning warrior: daddy dog duty, mama wash face, mama brush teeth, daddy shower, daddy brush teeth, mama makeup, daddy dress, baby wake, baby milk, mama hair, baby dress, mama dress, baby eat, out the door and forty-five minutes later we’re in the car. Pumpkin was always the first at school and I was within the first three at work. Other moms would roll in to the office just in time to pour a cup of coffee before the sounding bell, while I had already been involved in all the morning gossip, answered a few emails, and read the headlines over two cups of coffee. Boy, did I judge those mamas.
Little did I know, I was the one that should be judged. Why in the world was I in such a hurry to get Pumpkin to school, where she was the sole little bit in the room playing all alone for at least fifteen minutes? Why in the world did I want to wake that baby from the most restful slumber and jar her into ready-mode an extra fifteen minutes early? I know there is a saying about sleeping giants or dogs or babies, but however it goes, it’s not a good thing to wake her. Was this all for an extra .2 billable hours?
So this week we started sleeping in; or at least Pumpkin has. It’s only about a 15-minute difference, but she wakes up oh so much happier. We take our time, have pre-breakfast (she eats real breakfast at school) and we talk about her day, get ready, even play with the puppies for a bit. The mornings are so much more enjoyable when Sergeant Mommy isn’t barking orders and keeping her troops in line. Traffic is a little heavier, but that just gives us more time to rock out to music in the car. And the best part is, I’m not depositing Pumpkin into a cold empty classroom – most of the kids are there and playing when we arrive and she gets to walk right up and join the fun.
But much to my surprise, on that first “late” morning, not only were the kiddos there, but there were mamas there too. Lots of them. There were mamas rocking in the chair, playing with the toys, changing diapers. I mean, mamas were everywhere. They were greeting the yard man and the cleaning lady. How did they know their names? What is going on in there that I either didn’t get a memo about or invitation to? How do all these other mamas know they are supposed to hang out with their kid in the morning? Doesn’t this make the “transition” from goodbye to gone harder, like all my reading has told me? I’ve been a firm believer in the dump-and-run – I’m in and out before the door even finishes closing. Apparently, I’m “that” mother. I’m certain the others are talking about me. Damn internet.
In any event, I’m watching those mamas. I’m going to figure out exactly what they are doing in there and why. Maybe I’ll hang out tomorrow. After all, according to Pum, today at “kool” they are learning about “lellow.” The color “lellow” always makes me smile…kinda like Pummy.
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