I’ve never been the best about being punctual.
As an artist & storyteller, I still have projects from the past decade that are incomplete. My desk features about 270 business cards still waiting to be entered into my CRM. I have yet to file my extension on my taxes & I have three fix-it tickets sitting in my car glove box from January (#beingagrownman).
I am blessed to be the rare Angeleno, er, Beverly Hill…ite?… who lives within five minutes of their work. 4 minutes 37 seconds, to be exact. So when I am five minutes late to work it literally means I left at the time I was supposed to be there.
And I thought being a dad was going to make this punctuality issue somehow better?
Our boys spent 11 days in the NICU after arriving early at 34 1/2 weeks. As rough of a time as that was, feeling separated from them, having to make time to see them, parking and walking half a mile it seemed from the Cedars parking lot to the tower with the NICU, it came with a hidden blessing: scheduling. Our children came home on a strict 2:00/5:00/ 8:00/11:00 feeding schedule. They were trained to sleep thru constant beeps, and after two months we are now finding that once a night they tend to sleep thru one of their feeds as well.
If only we could accurately predict which one that would be, we’d be in fantastic shape.
Yet this morning, this morning of all mornings, when I woke up at 7:40 AM and my first meeting wasn’t until 9:30, this morning when I walked the dog, took out the trash, peeled my own hard-boiled egg (#beingagrownman), this morning, once again, I was late. Because, in just the past three days it seems, our sons started SMILING.
And I can’t get enough of it.
There I was, 9:20 AM, suit on, tie tied (Double Windsor! #beingagrownman), laptop and iPad and notepad in hand. I took one last look at Archer lying in his boppy and saw his eyes were wide open. I stopped in my tracks & said, in the closest thing I have to a sing-song voice, “Arrr-chhie!”
And my 9 week old son looked up at my face and smiled.
I instantly repeated the mantra, to an even wider grin. My next 7 minutes were like the best version of Groundhog’s Day ever.
I pulled into the work parking garage at 9:32 AM. My blessings compounded; my 9:30 meeting emailed me saying “stuck in traffic, five minutes late.”
Excuses are unacceptable, and being punctual is being a grown man. This one time, being a father trumps all. I will never forget those minutes I was late, making my son smile.