Does the therapist know your phone number by heart and call you ten minutes after you’re suppose to be at an appointment to ask if you’re still coming? Has it happened more times than you’re willing to really tell anyone? This time I couldn’t pretend like I was already on my way and maybe just stuck in traffic because I had just answered the phone. Yep, I forgot again. Do I blame it on being over forty or on just being overwhelmed this week?

Honestly I used to pride myself on always being at least ten minutes early to every appointment, every meeting the children needed to attend, every practice, every game and every church service. Not only was I early, but I usually had an extra five to ten children with me. Ok, I’m sure you get the picture, but the key word here is “used.” I’m not really sure just when the transition occurred but I know it was within the last two or three years. Around the time I quit wearing a watch and stopped checking my planner every hour in an attempt to reduce my stress level.

So this morning I was trying to get the little ones dressed, the baby started crying and needed a bottle and a diaper. The older children were arguing over the ownership of a pair of blue jeans instead of doing their school and the seven year old thought he knew how to cook eggs by himself. One of my friends had called to discuss her latest dilemma with trying to finalize the adoption of her sibling group. Then another friend had called to confirm if we were still willing to provide respite this weekend for her children if one of them had a cold. I had already gotten my shower and put my hair up, somehow in the middle of all that, when the phone rang again.

It was the school speech therapist, wondering if we were on our way. I think I said, “Oh crap was that today?” and hung up the phone, not very professional, huh? Luckily I had laid her clothes out after breakfast, although she hadn’t taken any initiative in dressing herself. I quickly helped her to get dressed, formed a search party for her shoes and within five minutes we were out the door. Fortunately we live only about five minutes away from the elementary school. She was unbelievably cooperative during the evaluation which made the therapist smile even though we were thirty minutes late. Not only that but she qualified for speech therapy, an IEP and the preschool program so it was a very profitable trip and well worth the effort. Maybe I’ll have to start programming an alarm or a pop-up on my computer screen to remind me of my appointments. Lest I earn the reputation of Bizarro Super Therapy Mom, the exact polar opposite of Super Therapy Mom.