Being on Time

I woke up this morning to the sounds of screaming kids and a blaring television set. Groaning, I looked at my alarm clock which said five minutes to seven. Why hadn’t the kids gotten up yet? I mused, noticing we had exactly 50 minutes to get out the door so I could be at work on time and get the kids to school.

As I dashed into the bathroom to get ready, I wondered if the daily hassles of life were worthwhile. I had three kids to raise alone and a career and education to juggle all at the same time.

I still remember that first year when the kids and I lived in Newport, Oregon by the ocean. When I fled from an abusive marriage with three kids, $200, and seven suitcases, we started over. We lived in a tiny apartment close to my mom whom I hadn't seen in many years. She helped as much as she could.

We did not have a car or a phone, but Mom helped me buy a TV for $35 at a store called Eager Beaver. The kids sat on a tiny wooden table with three chairs and ate, colored, did arts and crafts, and watched Nickelodeon.

And every day, no matter how cold it was, unless a storm moved in, I'd bundle all three of the kids up and we'd go for a walk. Jeremy was only two years old then, and I'd strap him to the umbrella stroller. Melissa was three and good about holding on to the stroller and Stevie was five. We'd even walk him to Kindergarten every morning and pick him up.

Sometimes the kids and I missed the days we'd walk to the store and the beach every day. Life seemed so much easier then, though I worried about how I'd support them and provide them the best life I possibly could.

My life has changed drastically since then.

Being on time is a daily issue in our lives now.

All it took was one Psychology class at the local community college to convince me that I finally wanted to go back to college and get an education. Even though the class was hard and I barely passed, something sparked from deep within, a voice saying it was time.

Then I found out I qualified for grants and even a scholarship as a working single mom, and that made going back to college even more worthwhile. It didn’t take long for me to find out that English and writing were still my best subjects.

At the breakfast table, the boys fought over who would get the last of the Frosted Flakes. Stevie spilled milk all over the kitchen floor, and Jeremy yelled that he couldn’t find his tennis shoe. Melissa spent half an hour trying to figure out what to wear and cried because she missed out on the Frosted Flakes.

The television continued to blare Roadrunner cartoons. Beep beep! That figures, I thought.

“Kids! Turn off the TV!” I yelled at least three times.

“I still can’t find my tennis shoe!” said Jeremy, dashing back and forth.

“We have five minutes to get out the door. Let me help you look.”

I finally found the missing shoe on top of the bookcase in the boys’ bedroom. How it got there nobody knows. “Here you go, now hurry up.”

“Mom! I forgot my Brownie sash!” Melissa said.

“And I forgot my baseball hat. And the valentines”

We ran back into the house in a mad search for last-minute items. Five minutes later, we all piled into the car after an argument about who would sit in the front seat.

Driving toward work and the kids’ school, I felt like a Grand Prix race car driver trying to make it to the finish line as fast as possible.

“Mom, I forgot my homework,” Stevie exclaimed.

“Sorry. Too late now.”

“Oh no. Moooooomm!”

Now I dodged in and out of traffic down Capitol Street as the kids argued about whether to listen to the radio or a tape.

We made it to the State parking lot, and the car came to a screeching halt in the first parking space I could find.

“Come on kids. We have three and a half minutes. Get your things together,” I said.

I consider myself fortunate to work so close to the kids’ school. It saved time, and I needed to catch every bit of extra time I could get.

“It’s a nice day today, Mom. And we’re having a big Valentine’s Day Party at school,” Stevie said as we trotted down the block toward the intersection.

“We are too!” said Melissa.

“Look at the squirrels!” shouted Jeremy, and the kids all stopped to watch a squirrel scurry up the tree, as they often did.

“Sorry kids, but I only have one minute.” I corralled the kids to the corner. “Now stay together and I’ll watch you until you’re in the school building.”

The three of them crossed the street holding hands, with their colorful backpacks. While still watching the kids, I made a beeline for my work building.

I watched the kids cross the street as I started to go into the building. I waved goodbye to them. Then I heard Jeremy yell at me.

I turned around for a moment to wave again. “Mommy,” said Jeremy, “you forgot something!”

“What’s that?” I answered as I held the door to the building open so I could make my getaway.

“You forgot our hugs and kisses.”

“Honey, I have 30 seconds to be on time for work, and I’ll be late.”

I saw my three kids standing on the other side of the street looking at me and waiting patiently.

I let the door fly shut and ran across the street. “I love you guys,” I said as I gave each of my kids a big hug and kiss and watched them dash into the school building.

I smiled and felt nothing but love for those kids. They reminded me of why I work so hard every day.

I slowly walked back across the street to work and noticed the flowers in bloom in front of the building and smiled.