“I can’t imagine what it’s like getting 3 girls out the door on time every morning!”
The sympathetic bus driver had just pulled off the road (ok, after I frantically blinked my lights and swerved a few times) and kindly shouted this out the window.
We were late, again.
What was it this time? “Oh, mom, I forgot my skates.” “Oh, mom, I hate oatmeal in the morning.” “Oh mom, I can’t find my ____________”. “Oh, mom, I’m family of the week.” “Oh, mom, can you sign this.”
It never fails. No matter how many times we attempt to get to the bus stop on time, we just make it. Barely. And, we say to ourselves there’s got to be a better way.
We know of these days. These are the ones we make it with time to spare. There’s nothing frantic. The pace is slower. There’s no yelling. We stop. We pray (sometimes with our eyes open). I get a sloppy kiss and a hug. I get to send them off on a good note.
In our house, we have a “morning pit crew.” This fella makes breakfast, loads the dishwasher, assembles lunches, puts out the garbage, signs agendas and scrounges for pizza money – all this before 7:30am. Dad is our morning hero! He makes us all look good.
So, when asked how I get everyone out the door every morning, the answer is “I don’t.” We do.