Thursday, September 19, 2013

Tomorrow we'll be earlier

This morning Bud and Babe’s bus driver told me I was one fast mama. While I don’t appreciate the possible undertones of that statement, I have to admit it was quite appropriate. Why you ask? Because at 7:05 this morning I was sprinting down the sidewalk in my socks yelling WAIT at the top of my lungs with the kids trying to keep up behind me.

According to the published bus routes, their bus is supposed to come at 7am every day. Since the first day of school he has unerringly come at 7:12 every. single. day. Those 12 extra minutes are crucial to our morning routine. It means they get more time to sleep in, it means I have another few minutes to get my morning in line, it means if I shoot to have them ready by 7:05 every day that gives us a few minutes to sit in our stairwell and spend some time together that isn’t distracted by finding backpacks, making lunch, and any other sidetracking task. I love those few minutes in the stairwell. We can see the bus as it turns the corner and the kids still have time to get to there. We are warm and dry and talkative. I can tell them how much I love them and ask them what they are looking forward to today. It’s only a few minutes but it means so much to me.

But today as I picked up my shoes to put them on, I heard the familiar rumble of the diesel engine coming down the street. (I can’t tell you how thankful I am that our windows face the street and I can see these things!) I had no time to get my shoes on but thankfully the kids had their shoes and jackets on already and were just waiting for me. As I picked up Babe and ran with her down the stairs behind the speedy Bud I figured I’d just stay at the door and let them run to the bus. I kind of have this thing about going outside in my socks. I don’t like it. But there weren’t a lot of kids at the stop this morning and my kids aren’t there every day so the driver wouldn’t know to wait for them. As we emerged from the house I knew there wasn’t going to be enough time if I let them go alone. So, in all my shoeless glory, we started running down the street. The DPW guys next door noticed us and started yelling STOP to the driver…which got me yelling WAIT! NO! DON’T GO! WAIT!...which made them laugh at me. As the bus doors closed I knew he was going to pull away and we were still far enough away for him not to notice us. I dropped Babe’s hand, put my head down, and started to sprint. After a several yards I heard his brakes engage and I thanked my lucky stars! He stopped and opened the door and my kids ran up behind me and climbed on. “You are one fast Mama!” he said to me. Thank the good Lord for that!!

As I walked back to my house I couldn’t help but think of the scene of Dottie and Kit running to catch the train. And if you don’t know what I’m talking about, shame on you better get yourself a copy of A League of Their Own and watch that classic STAT!

Tomorrow I'll make sure we are ready earlier.



  1. LMAO - this post just made my morning. :)

  2. Hahaha! I'm so glad the bus driver stopped!

  3. Hahahha nothing like an unexpected morning workout! :)

  4. Shoeless Joe would have been proud...another baseball reference.

  5. Ill trade you mullet pics for a video of that! Good luck tomorrow morning!

  6. LMAO! I love this post! It's so well written!! These are experiences that make you pissed at the time but then later you can be like, "this'll make a damn good post."