"She Needs to Sort Out Her Priorities!"

~Ron Weasley, talking about Hermione, of course

Life is always an adjustment.  And my challenge is to adjust along with it, which is not something that comes easily to me.  

Shortly after Colton was born, as I began trying to function as a mother again (as in, actually getting dressed and leaving the house, not just sitting around in my pajamas feeding the baby), I noticed a rather alarming trend.  I kept managing to leave the house without brushing my teeth!  How gross and embarrassing is that?  But no matter how hard I tried we always seemed to be running behind and rushing to leave, and that one more thing to do kept getting forgotten.  

Fortunately for everyone around me, one day the solution hit me.  Like a ton of bricks.

I could just be late.

Now, I HATE being late.  I'm that person who will show up for your party five minutes early, while you're not even close to being ready for guests to show up.  (And then I'll probably stand around chatting with you, rather than actually letting you get ready or-- gasp-- helping you out!)  I'm going to be mean to my Mom for a bit and blame her for this.  Because my Mom, although perfect in just about every other way, has one flaw and that is that she is almost always late.  We were that family that always walked into church after it had begun.  I was that kid left standing in the parking lot after everyone else's mothers had picked them up.  And it wasn't fun.* 

So I became the on-time person.  

And I've been the on-time person ever since I got my driver's license, which is more than half my life now.  And I'm finally realizing how ridiculous I'd gotten about it: I would get angry if I was a few minutes late to play group!  Play Group!  As in, a bunch of moms bringing their kids to a park to hang out!  No one cares if you're late to play group!!!  Or even to the store, I'd be rushing out the door like I had an appointment to keep.  (Sure, I had a baby who might suddenly decide he was hungry.  But it turns out that I'm pretty good at nursing in public these days, so even that's really not a good excuse...)

Realizing that I could be late to some things is like breaking through chains.  Sure, I'm still trying really hard to be on time for important things, like church.  Or catching a flight.  But I'm finding more and more that for most things, being a few minutes late just doesn't matter.

And brushing your teeth DOES matter.  Definitely a good reason to be a couple minutes late.

*Ironically enough, Craig is the exact opposite.  His Mom was always on time, so he tends to run late for most things.  If I manage to come fashionably late to your party, you can thank Craig for managing to hold me back.