La Vida Loca

School is in full swing. Grandma is working hard in physical therapy. Mornings are insane.

I try to be on-time. Each night I prepare: Clothes are laid out for kids and Mom, lunch is packed. Belts, socks and shoes wait on the bench. All everyone needs to do is eat breakfast and get dressed. It should be simple- but it never is that easy. Jay is motivated to get to school and play with his buddies, so he is more cooperative. Ben, Anna and Grandma are less cooperative. They could care less if we are late. I hate being late. I get cranky when I am late.

I admit that I have always seen being late as a function of poor planning, an expression of a lack of concern or consideration.

Now it seems like being on time would require bending the laws of space and time.

I just can't plan my Mom into being on-time. She knows the schedule, but could really give a rats ass if we are late. Perhaps her attitude reflects some hard learned wisdom, or perhaps she feels entitled to a grace period at age 82. Sometimes I think she just doesn't want to be bossed around.

So I must adapt. I have to control my reactions. I have considered lying about appointment times. Unfortunately, Mom always knows when I am less than truthful so we will likely be late anyway.

If only everyone could just sleep in their clothes for the next day....