After enduring 42 minutes of my children dragging their feet, complaining about school, and darting back inside for forgotten items like lunches and jackets, I realized we were going to be late. Again. With my keys in hand and anxiety bubbling up, I sat stiffly in the driver’s seat, waiting for the last child to tumble into the car. Tension coiling in my chest, I silently backed out of the driveway.
As a mom of three, juggling two school drop-offs is a constant challenge. If we leave even a minute late, the day spirals out of control. By “we,” I mean “me.” Sure, my kids might face the embarrassment of a tardy slip, but once they hand it to the teacher and settle into their desks, it’s over for them. For me, being late means sacrificing timely appointments, meet-ups, or even my workout classes. My meticulously planned schedule becomes a chaotic scramble that seems to linger throughout the day.
We all operate on tight schedules, don’t we? So when a white SUV unexpectedly pulled in front of me on the winding residential road and crawled below the 25 mph speed limit, I snapped. With the kids in the back, I managed to suppress my profanity, but my frustration bubbled over as I pounded the steering wheel and semi-shouted, “What’s up with this guy?! He’s making us late!”
I flashed my high beams and resorted to that passive-aggressive stop/start driving (I know, not my best moment). After a minute of this, he finally pulled over, and I mistakenly thought he was letting me pass. But no, he exited his vehicle and began approaching my car, forcing me to stop. He looked to be in his early 60s, dressed casually even though it was a Tuesday, and he didn’t seem happy.
What do you do when an irate driver confronts you? As he tapped on my window with a scowl, adrenaline surged through me. Who did this guy think he was? Didn’t he realize the speed limit? I prepared to defend myself, but then he yelled, “What’s your hurry? You’re driving too closely! You need to take it easy!”
Those last five words struck me like a brick. You need to take it easy.
I opened my mouth to retort, but nothing came out. I wanted to argue that he was driving too slowly, dangerously so, given he’d pulled into moving traffic. But deep down, I recognized the truth in his statement. From the moment my day begins, I feel like I’m lagging behind, with so many things out of my control—how fast my daughters get ready, their moods, and sometimes even my reactions. I zip around the house, tense and demanding, desperate to reclaim lost minutes. Most mornings end in yelling or tears—or both. My heart races, my brow furrows, and my smiles are few and far between.
You need to take it easy.
Throughout the day, I flit from one task to another, juggling responsibilities, preparing meals, and squeezing in just one more phone call or errand before picking up the kids. This is motherhood, I tell myself. This frenetic pace is part of the job, and I’m determined to do it well. But I can’t keep up this relentless pace anymore. It’s draining, it’s disheartening, and it’s turning me into someone I don’t want to be.
When that stranger’s words drifted through my open window, everything slowed down, and I felt tears welling up—not an ugly cry, but enough that I kept my sunglasses on. I wasn’t going anywhere, and that was a relief. “You’re right,” I admitted. “I’m late, and I’m sorry for that.” And I genuinely was. I regretted making him angry, yelling at my kids, and allowing busyness to overshadow simply being present. Most of all, I mourned the moments I was missing in my race to accomplish everything.
The man stood there, arms crossed and unsure of how to respond. After a moment, he said softly, “Just take your time.” Then he hurried back to his car and drove off.
I sat there for a moment, heart racing and tears flowing. “Was that man mad at you, Mommy?” my youngest asked from her booster seat. “Not really,” I fibbed. “He was just frustrated because I was driving too close to him.” “Are we going to be late?” she inquired. “Yep, we are definitely going to be late,” I replied. “But it’s okay; we’re not really in a hurry anymore.”
In a world that often prioritizes speed over stillness, it’s important to remember to slow down and appreciate the journey. For those interested in exploring related topics, check out this page on home insemination kits and for more in-depth information on pregnancy, this link offers excellent resources.
Summary:
In this reflective piece, a mother recounts an encounter with a stranger who advises her to slow down during a hectic morning. The interaction leads her to confront her own frantic pace of life and recognize the importance of being present. The experience ultimately shifts her perspective on motherhood and time management.
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