Spoiler Alert! What is about to be disclosed to you may be quite shocking, but here it goes anyway. Please prepare yourselves. Deep breath…I sometimes struggle to communicate with my kids. Whoa. That was big. Huge in fact. I don’t think I am alone here; At least I hope I am not alone. Perhaps I am just a craptastic failure of a mother…I don’t know. But something is clearly wrong.

I’m not sure if it is that they don’t hear me, if they are ignoring me, or if they actually don’t understand the words that are coming out of my mouth. Maybe it’s a combination of all three…I’ll probably never know. Most days, I feel like I am caught in an alternate universe where I am thinking I am speaking clear and concise English, but in reality, I am speaking in some strange native tongue that no one else at my house understands.

Nothing proves this to me more than when we are trying to leave the house. It simply cannot be done. Leaving quickly can’t happen. We are late everywhere we go. I mean everywhere. Doesn’t matter what time of day it is, or how proactive we can be before it is actually time to leave. Shit hits the fan when it is go time.

“Leave earlier” people say…Well shit. Great idea. Why didn’t I think of that?  Oh wait…I did. And it doesn’t work. Like I said, it’s simply impossible to leave our house. End of story. The second those four words are spoken, all hell breaks loose.

“It’s time to go.”

DUN DUN DUUUUUUUNNNNNNNNNNNN (insert dramatic sound effect here)

This is what my kids do when they hear the dreaded words “It’s time to go”.

  • Nothing. Absolutely nothing.
  • Go upstairs and do anything they can think of that is unrelated to leaving.
  • Become ravenous and need a snack before they wither away and die.
  • Immediately have to poop.
  • Stare at me blankly.
  • Decide to count their money.
  • Insist on trying to find that “special toy” that I threw away four years ago.
  • Lose one or both of their socks. The very same socks that were just on their feet five seconds ago.
  • Have to brush their teeth.
  • Dump their food or drinks on their clothes.
  • Take off their shoes.
  • Freeze and cry hysterically for an unknown reason.
  • Keep playing on the computer.
  • Grab a Nerf gun and shoot their sibling in the face.
  • Think to themselves…She’s kidding. I’m not even going to get up.
  • Start to play with the cat.
  • Run down the street to see what the neighbors are up to.
  •  Get naked.
  •  Play basketball.
  • Hide.
  • Start looking for glue sticks, its art time.

Maybe one day they will understand that when I say it is time to go, it actually means IT IS TIME TO GO! Until then…please accept my apologies for being “unfashionably” late.

Being A Wordsmith
Life Love and Dirty Dishes