Punctuality... A Different Perspective!

I have been working since April 2006. Since I started my work life, one thing was always a fact: I am always on time. Think of different life circumstances, think of traffic jam, think of coffee split on my shirt at the last moment, I was always capable of beating that, alhamdulellah, by getting ready ahead of time and leaving myself alittle space to overcome any un-expected events.

And then I became a mom.

At first, I was overwhelmed with the amount of preparations I had to do in order to take my son to the daycare and then go to work.

Once I adjusted, and started being able to be at work on time again, we changed Aslan's daycare.

Once we adjusted to the new route, and I was able to be at work on time again, hubby bought a new car for himself so we got two cars for the family. Well, this was a push forward but it created some turbulence until we got used to the new system of each one of us going his own way.

Once I adjusted, and started being on time again, Aslan was potty trained. Which caused frequent last minute "I have to go" calls that could not wait until he was at daycare or I will risk dropping him at daycare while wet, the thing that I certainly refused.

And nowadays, I haven't yet adjusted, and it does not seem to look like I will.

My son's ever inquiring mind is always wondering about things, and he always has things to tell me during morning routines. He jumps out of my hands while I am dressing him and rushes to the living room to bring a piece of paper with a drawing of what is supposed to be a bus to show me what he drew last night. He resists going to the toilet because his lego tower from last night catches his attention. He "helps" me hanging the laundry before I go to work, which causes the ten-minutes process to spread to at least double the time.

I can chose to be at work on time. But the pay off will be oppressing my son's little morning chit-chats and spending the morning time shouting like a monster. But that is not a fair trade for me. I prefer that my request to my son to hurry up to be gentle. I prefer to waste time explaining to my son how we cannot waste time in the morning so that we do not run late. I prefer to be late to office so that I can explain to my son that, better than calling dad from the balcony, we can go downstairs and meet him at the street in front of the house.

And for the first time of my eleven years old career life, I am tardy. And I am not dying to stop it.