Every Tuesday at 11 a.m., my kids have ukulele lessons just a stone’s throw from our home. Yet without fail, I receive texts from my friend, who teaches the lessons, asking if we’re still coming. “It’s 11 a.m.!” she’ll say, followed by, “Everything okay?” At that point, I know we’re not making it. I’m aware it’s Tuesday and that the clock strikes eleven, but somehow, I’ve failed to connect the dots. Clearly, we’re not fine, either, as I can’t manage to get my children to a simple weekly music lesson that’s practically in our backyard.
This scenario is all too familiar. We also have a homeschool co-op on Thursday mornings, and I often forget about it, or I end up scheduling playdates instead. Double-booked again! Now I have to weigh the importance of socializing through free play versus academic engagement. Both are valuable, but making that call isn’t easy.
I can usually make it to Swim and Gym at the YMCA on Monday afternoons, but only because my eldest is absolutely obsessed with it and reminds me every chance he gets. I might be wrapped up in schoolwork, preparing lunch, or running errands when he suddenly shouts, “Mom, it’s Swim and Gym day!” The same goes for his friend, Max. “It’s Max Day!” he’ll exclaim upon waking, and my stomach drops. Oh no, it really is Max Day. I’m relying on my 6-year-old to keep track of my schedule!
When it comes to doctor’s appointments, forget it. I have to jot them down in my phone to remember. I’d do this for everything, but I can’t seem to figure out how to automate it without entering each event manually. I’ve tried, but either I make mistakes or miss the reminders. Despite all the technology available, I often feel lost.
It’s not just memory issues; I’m perpetually late. I’ve calculated that it takes about an hour for each child to get ready. That means I need to rise three hours before any event. This can go two ways: I either get distracted online, sipping coffee while putting on makeup, or I manage to get everyone up and dressed only to realize we have an hour to kill before we need to leave. Then we end up dragging our feet, letting the dogs in and out, and taking our sweet time getting into the car. And of course, we always make a Starbucks stop.
Showing up on time is simply not in our repertoire. And when we do arrive, it’s rarely with our hair styled or teeth brushed. My kids often look like they’ve just emerged from a tumble in the hedge. The baby sometimes forgets his shoes, as they frequently get tossed around in the car. I’m the mom who forgets the water bottle, the snacks, and all the necessary items for any outing.
This leads people to see me as the quintessential disorganized mom. It’s a running joke that I’m either early or late, but never punctual. In reality, it’s not as dire as it appears; my kids don’t really suffer from my chaos. Thankfully, I have friends who are understanding. I often wish I could be like those other moms who arrive right at 11 a.m., equipped with juice boxes and neatly combed hair.
But until I can achieve that level of organization, we’ll continue to be either a half-hour late or half an hour early. Don’t expect perfect hairstyles or smooth sailing. If that’s a dealbreaker, then maybe we’re not meant to be friends. In a way, I’m grateful for that—it’s a good measure of who can truly handle my chaotic mom-life.
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Summary:
This article humorously depicts the chaotic life of a mom who struggles to keep her schedule straight while managing her children’s activities. From ukulele lessons to playdates, the author shares relatable anecdotes about being late, forgetting essentials, and the challenges of juggling motherhood. Despite the stress, she finds solace in the understanding of her friends and the realization that her kids are thriving in their own way.