in the nick of time

Labor Day came and went. A four day weekend is such a blessing, but Tuesday morning it seemed more like a curse. I had ALL weekend with my husband at home and I didn't do anything productive. The house was a wreck, everyone was exhausted and there were three squares of toilet paper to my name (and I have to share it with six people living with me.)

I left for the store in a frenzy. I hoped I could shop and be back in time to take the carpool. I hoped my boys were eating breakfast so I wouldn't have to shove a banana down their throats as they buckled their seatbelts and finished their homework on the way to elementary.

And then, on the street, I drove passed a neighbor girl running her little heart out. She was just a block or two from our house and just a few more blocks away from the bus stop. She was sprinting, with arms flailing and her books flopping from side to side on her back. I could hear her panting with my windows rolled up. Poor thing. I pulled over, told her to get in for the ride of her life and peeled away from the curb like I'd just robbed a bank. I'd get her to that bus stop in time or I'd get a ticket trying. We arrived at the same time as the bus and she got out without saying thank you. And I don't blame her. She had enough on her frazzled brain.

As I thought of her throughout the day, I giggled. The sight of her frantically sprinting was just too funny. She has a long road ahead of her with many more early mornings at the bus stop... not to mention drama with friends, heartbreaks after not being asked to dances, late nights trying to write papers on books she didn't read. Poor girl. I enjoyed high school, but I wouldn't go back for all the tea in China.

As the day progressed, I realized how similar my life was to the frenzied high schooler. I am not ever physically sprinting for my neighbors to see, but I am sprinting in my own way. I am always out of breath, just trying to keep up--- not with the Kardashians, but with the laundry! I don't want to know what would have happened if the toilet paper had run out. I came back just in the nick of time. My mornings are chaotic and busy. My afternoons are filled with toddler tornadoes and a baby clawing at my calves, just begging to be held. By evening, my clothes are spattered with spaghetti sauce even when pasta wasn't on the menu. When I huff to my mother on the phone about about my frustrating days, she laughs at me. And then she tells me that while she enjoyed the early motherhood years, she would never go back, not for all the tea in China.

This week she told me about a time when my Dad took her out on a date and when they arrived at their destination, she told him to go inside and leave her in the car alone. It made me laugh and feel so much better about my desire to be left alone. And my desire to leave the house.

Life is a journey. It's difficult in every stage for different reasons. The more we can relate to others and sympathize with their struggles, the more we find the joy in our own circumstances. My journey is uniquely different than yours. But it's the same too. Today, after loading the dinner dishes and putting the kids to bed, I cried. And then I laughed about my crazy day as I pictured myself sprinting around and flailing my arms just to arrive to this moment-- the moment where I lay down in bed and feel grateful I made it here, just in the nick of time. I didn't do it in style or grace, but I made it. And tomorrow I am going to try to be a little more prepared... and a little less judgmental towards anyone who doesn't have it all together all the time.