Right on time.

This morning was the perfect example of how parenthood is so damn hard and yet so rewarding.

Mark had a doctors appointment at 8:30am which meant getting Oliver (age 5) to school at 9am would be tricky with one car. I thought “we can do hard things” and I told Mark “take the car!” and to plan to pick us up after his appointment and he left and I got the kids dressed and I had to wake up Amalia (4 months old) because of course today she decided to doze off again at 8am but we all got ready. I strapped baby into the Ergo carrier and got Oliver and Violet (age 3) in the stroller and it was 8:50am and I thought “Oliver’s school is about a mile away so he will only be 10 minutes late.” And I pushed the stroller and carried the baby and kept having to fix her hat because it was drizzling but her hat kept falling in her face but I kept pushing and thought “I can do hard things” and I was going to get Oliver to school today dammit. And I pushed and I sweat and the kids laughed as we went over bumps. It was going fine until Mark called me and when I answered the phone I saw it was 9:20am. Holy forking shirt. “Hi, we aren’t even there yet”, I laughed and he said “I’ll meet you at the school so you don’t have walk home.” And I thought “thank god” but also “what will Oliver’s teachers think of me as I traipse in with the bun in my hair that I wore to bed last night that is now doused in rain and sweat?!” As we entered the school parking lot at 9:30am - a half hour late - I judged myself hard and thought “why can’t I get it together?” and this is when the magic happened.

Oliver and Violet, arriving in their stroller throne, climbed out and said “Right on time!”, and echoed each other  “yup, right on time.”

I guess we were, right where we needed to be, when we needed to be. I guess lateness is an adult concept with no meaning to kids. I guess the walk was a fun adventure that delivered them to the school’s doorstep right. on. time.