I recently read a wonderful, thoughtful blog post from a mother who realized she was always hurrying her child out the door and swore to never say the words, “Hurry Up” to her daughter anymore.
I really get what she was writing but…
Man, I am SO not her.
Yes, I say hurry up about 50 times a day (40 on the weekends).
Yes, I really mean hurry up, we’re going to be late.
Yes, I’d like to lovingly guide my children out the door with love and the patience of Job but guess what? They only really listen when I YELL!
Hurry up and get out of bed.
Hurry up and come downstairs for breakfast.
Hurry up and eat.
Hurry up and get your jacket/boots/ski pants/mitts on.
Hurry up and get in the car.
And that’s all before 8:30 am.
Hurry up, it’s time to go to dance/hockey/drama/music/insert extra curricular activity here.
I’m like a broken record or a naggy wife. While I don’t like it, it’s my job.
No, I don’t MEAN to be annoying just like I’m sure the kids don’t MEAN to ignore me.
No, I don’t want to crush their spirits but their spirits will have time later to do whatever spirits do. Just not when we’re trying to get out the door.
The truth is, I don’t like to be late. It’s a fault. But this trait + two lollygaggers = HURRY UP!
I won’t swear that I’ll never say those two words to my girls. But I will swear that I’ll use them as sparingly as possible. I’ll try to cut down to 30 times a day. Especially during the Christmas holidays.
I just have to hurry up and finish this blog post because it’s almost wine o’clock. Priorities, you know!
