Hurry up…we are going to be late!

Hurry up… we are going to be late.148950945060132188154.jpg

I have always been quite clinical about getting to places on time, I hate been late and always ensure I set off in double the amount of time to get somewhere, for example, me and my mum were going to Manchester to watch Billy Elliot at the theatre, it is a 45 minute journey on the sat nav, so just to be safe we gave it 4 hours! Despite this, I am not saying it always happens, it usually doesn’t. Like in this example we did actually end up only just making it in time for the beginning of the show because we had so much time we decided to have both breakfast and then lunch, which meant cutting it very fine and apologising a we squeezed past the already seated audience. But been on time has always been something that panics me and I am very conscious of.

Ever since I have had a small child, suddenly everything takes so much longer and everything requires so much more time. Putting my shoes on and getting out of the door was a 2 minute if that, job that I could be doing eating a croissant and texting at the same time. After Oscar was born the shoe task and getting out of the door at best takes 10 minutes.

Since starting school I feel like our life is now a constant rush, a constant list of things we need to tick off and schedules we have got to meet.

So after realising every other word I am saying from opening our eyes too closing them on a night is HURRY UP,

1. Are you dressed yet?

2. Come on quicker!

3. We are going to be late!

4. We have literally 2 minutes!

5. It will have to be a quick story !

6. Your going to miss your bedtime story if you don’t hurry up!

7. Come on why haven’t you finished yet?


So after the mummy guilt had kicked in and I realised I am raising my child like a strict army Sergeant sticking to tight schedules instead of letting him live and cutting him a bit of slack in the meantime.

After the gut wrenching realisation I knew I had to do something about this. I mean does it really matter that a five year old (who can’t even tell the time) goes to bed 3 minutes past his bedtime? My baby won’t be a  little boy for hardly anytime at all and soon he won’t even want me too tuck him in to bed at night or read his favourite story.

So I vowed to give an extra five minutes, relax when I see the time ticking by. The time that counts is now, not when we are all fast asleep drooling the night away. And most importantly I vowed to not say “hurry up!”


That night I ran Oscar a bath, he went in the bathroom whilst I sat outside the door feeding Nalah. I always make him sing whilst in the bath so I know he is okay. He was singing B I N G O and Bingo was his nameo. I glance at the time, its 15 minutes till bedtime, but I remember my earlier promise and try not to watch the clock tick by. I manage to hold out for another five minutes and gently prompted Oscar to now be getting out of the bath.

“yeah I will do after.” He replies

“after what sweetheart?”

“after I’ve got in.”

“what?!?!” cue full mum rage. “Hurry up, what on earth have you been doing, get straight in and then straight back out or else no book.”

“I was just busy singing mummy.”

So okay I failed on saying “Hurry up” the word of mums all over the world, but there is always tomorrow. And lets be reminded the world didn’t end because he was  in bed  3 minutes late.