I've trained Isabella on the importance of timeliness. Of course, this is good and bad, since she often grills me as we are on our way to our destination: Are we going to be early? Will we be the first ones there? You mean we're going to be late? What does late mean? So, we're going to be early, then? Right on time? What is 'right on time'? Is that early? You get the idea. The government should try hiring children to conduct interrogations. She knows just which buttons to push, at exactly the right time, and knows just how to push me over the edge so that I start to believe I am insane.
On Monday, Isaac seemed like he was getting a cold, so I was very happy when it took little effort to get him down for a nap, but then I checked the clock. Story-time was going to begin in one hour. Isabella finished up her school work, and I rushed her into the car, and then went back inside and very apologetically woke up Isaac and put him in the car. We were on our way, Isaac asleep again in his car seat, when I remembered, story-time doesn't start at 12:30 p.m., it starts at 1:30 p.m. We would be an hour early. Bang head on steering wheel (not really--that would give me a headache, and I get plenty of those without banging my head against hard objects).
Tuesday was a little different. We were in the car at four o'clock, all set to be perfectly on time for the 4:30 p.m. story-time. I was even a little excited by the fact I had time to stop at Starbucks for a cup of coffee. I got a text from Sarah: Are you guys coming to story-time? Me: Yeah Sarah: It just started (at 4). Bang head on steering wheel.
-Isabella, it looks like I made a mistake, story-time is starting right now, and I thought it wasn't going to start for another half hour.
-YOU MEAN WE'RE GOING TO MISS IT????
-Well, we'll get there as soon as we can, and maybe you can still do the craft.
-(crying) BUT I TOLD THE LIBRARIAN THAT I WOULD BE THERE FOR THE WHOLE CONTIRE (entire) THING!
-Yes, I understand you are very disappointed, all we can do is go for whatever part is left and then you can still play with your friends at the library.
It gets better:
I don't even remember why, but Isabella had to go to her room for a time-out. Personally, I love time-outs. I wish someone would put me in time-out. I also love that they send everyone to separate corners, where they have to be silent. I typically use it to my advantage when a time-out is going really well. Basically this means that the time-out recipient forgot they were in time-out and happily stayed in their bedroom. Isabella spent a considerable amount of time her in room on this particular occasion and it was pretty fabulous because Isaac was napping, and she was quiet, and forgot that she could come out of her room. Until she did come out of her room and had a note for me: My mommy does not lok my (My mommy does not like me). Lovely. The power of the written word.
Can you tell, I have a really good track record for parenting this week...and it's only Wednesday (and the first time I typed that, I spelled 'Wednesday' wrong)...and my daughter told me I "need to start remembering stuff better".