I am never late.
And for anyone out there who just read that first sentence and thought, “Ooooh . . . Kris is pregnant!”
Consider yourself internet bitch-slapped.
Not fucking even.
Anyway.
I like to be on time.
And I like others to be on time.
For those of you who know me in real life? All of those times you were late? And I said it was no big deal?
Totally fucking lying.
Maj is like me. But taken up a few thousand notches.
Maj thinks that I am a total fuck-up, and that without her help? I will get confused and perhaps lie down on the kitchen floor and jingle the car keys to amuse myself. Like a tiny sparkling wind chime above my head.
But Maj is on top of things, and so shit like that doesn’t happen.
Mostly.
And so thanks to Maj? We are never late.
Plus also? We are always crabby.
YAY!
Here we are, yesterday . . .
It always starts out so reasonably.
I say, “We’re going to pack a lunch and meet your aunt and uncle and your cousins at the lake today.”
And Maj says, “What time are we meeting them?”
And I say, “Around 12:30.”
“Around 12:30? You know I don’t like the word around. So let’s just say that we will be at the park at 12:30.”
“Fine by me.”
“OK, do we have everything that we need for this time at the lake? Or do we need to stop anywhere on the way?”
“I think we’re good. Why?”
“I want to know what time we’re going to leave.”
“Geez, Maj . . . 12:15? 12:20? It’s a short drive. Somewhere in there.”
“OK, so we are leaving at 12:15. That gives me a half hour to get organized. Why did you wait until now to tell me about this plan? You know I like to know the plan.”
“Seriously, Maj? A half hour of you organizing me? Is about all that I can take.”
Maj screams out into the house, “KALLAN? KALLAN?”
Kallan appears, “Yeah?”
“We’re leaving for the lake at exactly 12:15.”
Kallan disappears for perhaps two minutes, returns, throws her beach bag and supplies in a pile next to the front door and runs out of the house, “There’s all my stuff. I’m going to my friend’s. Call me when it’s time.”
Maj looks at me, “You now have 26 minutes, and it seems like someone should point out that you are not even dressed yet.”
And so I get dressed.
Make a phone call.
Maj yells at me from downstairs, “If we are packing a lunch you better get on that, Mother! You only have 17 minutes left before we are leaving!”
And so I go downstairs to pack a lunch. Turns out we don’t have much to pack, and so I grab some snacks, and I tell Maj that we will just buy some hot dogs at the park.
Maj is annoyed, “Didn’t I ask you if we needed anything? Didn’t I ask you if we needed to stop anywhere along the way? Why didn’t you tell me then that we had no food in our house? Now we need to leave in 11 minutes and we have no food. Good planning, Mother.”
“An unexpected hotdog is not going to kill you, Maj. You are all flexible and easy-going.”
I may have giggled here.
Her face is all cranky and stubborn, “You said we were going to pack a lunch, except now we don’t have things to pack for a lunch. Don’t you see that there is a problem here?”
I reach into the back of the fridge, “Here’s what I can do, Maj. I have leftover stew from a few nights ago. You can eat that cold or you can just relax and eat a hot dog.”
“Stew? Stew, Mother? Are you kidding me? Fine. I will eat a hot dog even though that is not the packed lunch that you promised.”
“Just because words come out of my mouth, Maj? That does not make them a promise.”
“You have mentioned that before. But I like to know what’s going to happen, and so you should be careful when you say things to me.”
Jesus . . .
“Maj? I am already tired and we haven’t even left yet.”
She looks at the clock, “Five minutes, Mother. We are leaving in 5 minutes.”
“Is that enough time for me to take a nap?”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Mother.”
I throw the snacks and drinks into a bag, grab my phone and my park pass . . . my purse.
Maj is standing by the front door, “We have three minutes, Mother! Should I yell for Kallan to come back from the neighbor’s house? It’s almost time to go.”
“Ummmm . . . wait just a second on that. Just let me use the bathroom.”
Maj is all incredulity, “You were already in the bathroom! What were you doing in there if you weren’t using it?”
“Jesus, Maj. I have to pee. I can take a minute here to pee or we can walk out of the door and I will pee in the driveway. Your call.”
“That is disgusting, Mother. Why are you being so disgusting?”
I stand and wait for her approval, “So I can use the bathroom, then?”
“Yes, fine. Go pee, Mother. I don’t know why you couldn’t have done this before, but go ahead.”
I can hear her yelling from the front door as I use the bathroom, “We are going to be late! One minute! We are leaving in 1 minute! We are going to be late!”
Oh my god.
As we pull out of the driveway, Maj comments, “It’s 12:17. I knew we were going to be late.”
I swing the car out of the driveway and onto the road, “We are not late, Maj. Except in your own mind. We are not late.”
“Yes, well . . . 12:15 is what we said. And it is not 12:15. It is 12:17. Two minutes late.”
My sister and her husband and their kids?
They got to the park at about 1:00 pm.
They don’t have Maj.
Maj?
Was not pleased with them.
Sigh.
In related news?
Someone (who may or may not have been my sister) said to me yesterday, “Geez, I think I would have a really hard time being Maj’s mom.”
SNORT!
Maj is difficult.
She takes after me.
Love that girl.
She keeps me on my toes.
And thanks to Maj?
I am never late.
LMAO at your comment regarding someone thinking you are pregnant. Hilarious.
Me and Maj? We’d either get along fabulously, or butt heads tremendously because we are so alike. The not funny part? Buddy is the same way. And he drives me insane. He needs to know every single detail in advance, and will continue to ask the same questions about the details over and over again. It’s exhausting and annoying.
Yes, Maj has always been this way and it is at times exhausting and annoying.
She is all unique and lovely and so very very Maj.
I love her enormously.
And then sometimes? I lie down for a bit.
Tell Maj to never, ever, EVER come to Costa Rica.
Here, punctual means less-than-45-minutes-late.
I want to kill people sometimes.
But your girl, she would totally self-combust before her third appointment.
Vacations are very very hard on Maj.
She likes to have a plan at all times. A schedule.
She would not fare well in Costa Rica.
Unless killing people is not frowned upon there?
In which case, she would be fine.
Snort!
Maj and me – could be sisters. Because, of course, I’m not old enough to be her mother. (Although I totally am).
I love her!
Mark and I sometimes just stare at Maj in disbelief as she berates us for our various failings.
And then after she leaves the room?
We giggle hysterically.
I hate it when people are late. Maybe I could borrow Maj to convince people to show up to meetings on time here at my office. She would go out of her mind if she saw what goes on here.
Maj takes control in those sorts of situations.
She has never had a teacher who she did not organize and assist in fulfilling their obligations.
Some teachers?
Are more appreciative than others.
Maj hates stubborn people who will not see that her way is the correct way.
In high school I used to drive my younger brother to school. We would get to school at 7:05 even though it didn’t start until 7:35. He would complain every morning. He didn’t understand that being late was not an option.
Plus the 4 minutes between class was not nearly enough. I would get nervous before every bell that I would be late for my next class. School can be tough.
When Maj is able to drive?
And Kallan needs to beg a ride?
Kallan will be crazy-ass early for everything.
Which will drive Kallan nuts, as she does not like to be the first one to arrive.
Way uncool, according to Kallan.
My son is similar in that he doesn’t hear the words “around” “about” “approximately”.
When is Daddy getting home? About 4 (which in my mind means between 3:45-4:15)…to my son, at 3:55 he starts with the “Daddy should be home soon, right?” Where’s Daddy?…Daddy’s late…How long til he gets home?…call him and see when he’s going to be home…WHY ISN’T HE HERE YET?!?!!!
Also, if we’re leaving at 4(?)..he’s at the door, fully dressed and waiting by 3:45. within a couple minutes, he’s trying to rush us along so we can leave EARLY. I’m not real sure where he got the “early” gene.
I have learned (as Nigel mentioned somewhere in here), to adjust.
If Mark should be home at 5:30?
I tell Maj he will be home at 6:00.
That works fine unless she figures out what I have done.
And then she is incensed.
Can I have a Maj at my house? Because I’m always late. Don’t hate me.
Maj?
Would whip your asses into shape.
She would not stand for your tardiness.
At all.
If my mother had raised Maj? It would be the end of the world.
My mother says she will be somewhere at 1, and it will be 2:30 before she arrives. If the movie starts at 5? We will be seeing the 7:30 showing.
This why I learned at a young age to Mr. Scott things up with my time estimates in all things.
Kirk: Scotty, I need the engines back on line in 20 minutes or we’re all dead.
Scotty: I canna do it, Captain. She’ll take at least an hour before she’ll move an inch.
Kirk: Make it happen, Scotty!
And then Scotty of course works his magic, because he knew it would only take 10 minutes to repair everything, and he is then the hero.
And so? When I need to be somewhere at 1, I tell people I will be there at 1:30. If the movie starts at 5, I will be there by a quarter after 4, because I? I am the hero.
Time is on my side.
Having said this, I am late to work every day because I just do not give a holy shit.
Your mother?
Would fall into Maj’s most hated category, entitled, “People who are going to fucking piss me off with their lateness.”
Maj categorizes everyone she meets according to how late they are to promised engagements.
And her best friends? Are always the children who are on time.
The others? She tries to adjust in her mind . . . OK, they said they would be here at 1:00, but the last few times we have done stuff together? They were about 15 minutes late. And so I will just assume that they will be here at 1:15.
If they are then 30 minutes late?
She hates them silently.
I’m glad that she has learned so well how to let things go.
Maj holds things so tightly their imprints are left on her palms.
Always.
I tried surprising my son one day by picking him up early from daycare & taking him to the circus.
I learned that day that I should never, EVER try to surprise my little guy, even with something good. The crying? It was not worth it. 7 years later, we make sure all possibilities are covered. Fortunately, as long as we are clear ahead of time that if the weather changes or the Universe throws something else at us it may NOT happen? He’s OK with it.
Go figure. How does Maj cope with canceled plans?
Maj hates canceled plans.
She usually has to go read quietly by herself for a bit.
She also hates changes in plans.
A lot.
Even if the changes?
Are lovely.
Sigh.
This conversation was with me, wasn’t it. I HATE WHEN PEOPLE ARE LATE!! Especially my mom friends. Umm, hello, I have a toddler too damnit and I still managed to make it here 10 minutes before we agreed to meet, and you you’re like 20 minutes late and blaming it on your child…no you’re lazy ass just took too long. I hate it. I truly despise when people are late, it’s so fucking inconsiderate.
P.S. I would LOVE it if my period was late and I was pregnant, but I’m pretty sure that yaz pill I take every evening is preventing this pregnancy thing.
Snort!
Yes, I believe there may be a connection.
As for me?
I am done with the baby part of my life.
Been there and done that.
It was lovely.
But now I am done.
As for your discussion of lateness?
I totally agree.
And Maj? Adores you now.
And I, her.
My 5 year old is like that, I dread plans falling through. Always followed by the repeated, incessant demand for explanation.
Maj makes me feel right at home!
Yes, Maj is eleven and has still not outgrown the WHY? stage.
But why have they canceled, Mother? There must be an explanation. Things don’t just happen for no reason.
Except they do, sometimes.
Sigh.
Oh, I feel for Maj and the life ahead of her, never being late in a world of late-arrivers. It can be rough.
I too am always early. Are you always early, or simply never late? Because my need to never be late results in my always being early, scoping the place out, being confident that I know where I am going, and then finding someplace to cool my jets. It is a problem, really. Compounded by the tendency of everyone else to be late. That’s a lot of jet-cooling.
I am always early.
Always.
I bring a book.
I believe I’ve said this before… Maj has to be a Virgo. I sometimes feel like I am in a constant state of near hysterics because no one else I know likes to make plans or stick to schedules so I am left feeling off-balance. I’ve learned that no one cares for my schedule-related hysterics. Also, you are possibly a saint for not losing your patience with her.
I do not know the astrological signs.
Her birthday is May 11th.
A strong sign, whatever it is.
I do occasionally lose my patience. I do.
I throw a little fit and go take a crabby nap.
And then I get up and laugh again.
Because really? What else is there to do?
Wow. I am also not a fan of people being late for stuff. But Maj takes it another whole level. She is all kinds of impressive.
There must be a magical thing that happens when you become a mother. Some sort of mystical saint-like patience tranformation happens where a small person berating you about being 2 minutes late becomes amusing and not totally infuriating. Us step-parents? We have to work really hard to achieve that zen-like calm sometimes. ;)
The magic?
Comes with long practice.
Maj has been like this since she was born.
Seriously, since she was born.
.:sigh:.
I need a Maj. I hate being late. But I am never on time for anything anymore.
Drives my husband crazy.
Maj?
Would straighten you right out.
Promise.
Maj should come live with me…I like to be 5-10min early….and no one else in my house likes that at all
Maj’s list of requirements is quite lengthy.
Email me for complete details.
Snort!