Parenting By Stop Watch: A Lesson In Time Management

By Diane Clehane

Even though the kids have been in school for weeks, it’s finally beginning to feel like it’s truly “back to school” season. Maybe that’s because the kids are, finally, really back to school. Most importantly to “working parents” (is there any other kind?), classes are finally in session for full days. We’re in the clear until Columbus Day – whew!

As October begins, I realize that my hope that “things would get easier” as my daughter gets older, couldn’t be more off base. Now that she is four, every weekday I spend nearly 90 minutes in total each day driving my daughter back and forth to her preschool. When I listened to the other moms who congregated in the café at the school while we all waited around during those phase-in days, I began to feel guilty that I don’t have her in any other after-school or weekend activities—but I just can’t bring myself to get behind the wheel on Saturday mornings. Sleeping in until 8 a.m. is a luxury I won’t give up!

I have put more miles on my car in the last year than I have in any 12-month period since I’ve owned it. To wit, a few days ago, my daughter’s class had their first class trip to go apple picking. The letter that came home with all the details informed parents that each child had to be transported back and forth from the farm, which was about a 45-minute drive from school (and an extra 20 minutes from our house). If you didn’t want your child go to, there would be no classes to attend that morning. Of course I went—and we had a lovely time. I did, however, beg off from driving my daughter back for the afternoon session, which would have warranted my doing one more loop in the car back and forth to school.

Instead, we spent a relaxing, unstructured afternoon exploring every nook and cranny of a nearby Target that we’d never been to before. We tried on Halloween costumes, perused the toy department (“No buying, just looking!”), and had a tasty snack at the snack bar.

I was reminded of those blissfully early days of parenthood when my daughter was truly “just a baby” and she didn’t have to be anywhere at any particular time. A weekly music class and trips to Gymboree now and then for mommy-and-me indoor play was pretty much the extent of it. At the time, I remember being a bit frazzled trying to get my newly adopted baby dressed in her snowsuit and safely strapped into the car seat (a skill I finally mastered last week—just before giving the seat away!) and off to music class on time. If only I knew what lay ahead, I would have been much more laid back about everything!

Now, waking even fifteen minutes late puts my whole day out of whack and sets me off barking like a drill sergeant (“Brush your teeth! Put your toys away! Put on your sneakers!”) while I scramble to make lunch, pack up the back pack with the required elements for gymnastics, swim, or whatever else is happening that day, and attempt to run a brush through my hair. God forbid my daughter wants to wear ponytails or put on tights! That’s five minutes that we absolutely do not have. I’ve finally figured out the only way to keep things on track is to do as much as I can the night before—and I’ll stay up well past midnight to do this rather than run the risk of having my daughter be the last child to arrive for circle time! Oh, the shame!

I comfort myself with the notion all my machinations are on the front end of my day, save for the all-important pick-up. That is, without a doubt, when timing is the most critical. Five minutes is the difference between being the “good mother” and the bad parent. Just ask my husband, who, one day last year, was 20 minutes late getting our daughter because he was coming from Connecticut and stuck in traffic. To make matters even worse, he was unable to call because his cell phone was in a bag in the trunk of his car. The treatment he got at school paled in comparison to what he was met with at home when I shrieked, “Are you kidding me? You can’t do that! I’m going to be paying for that big time!” This year, the school has instituted a policy of automatically billing a $25 penalty to parents that are late more than five minutes more than three times in one month. Yikes! I’ve set the clock in the car ahead by 10 minutes just to be safe. I’m guessing my husband will be thrown into the stockade if he dares to show up 20 minutes late again this year.

I know this pales in comparison to what parents of elementary and high-school students have to contend with, but it’s all that I know (thank goodness) for now. I know that, in time, these days will also take on the nostalgic haze of ‘when things were simpler …’

I only hope that when that time comes I’ll have a few minutes between my chauffeuring duties to indulge in yet another chapter of parenting revisionist history.