Tomorrow, the Other Side of the Street

We missed the bus again today. More truthfully, I missed the bus again. As I ran up the sidewalk with my three children (two of them in a stroller), only to see the bus pass by at the end of the street, my brain couldn't avoid a flashback to childhood.

It must have happened at least a hundred times: me running up the dirt road only to see the bus pass by at the end of the street. The morning air was only slightly cooled and sat still as I hurried. Luckily, the bus had to come back that way, so if I crossed the street, I could be picked up on the other side. The streak of yellow at the finish line might as well have carried the banner, "You lose again."

And that was how I felt today, only worse. My daughter has never ridden the bus to school. She wants to, but her mother can't get her to the bus stop in time. Yesterday, on her second day of Kindergarten, I promised her that we would catch the bus "tomorrow." I should have known (from experience) it was a promise I am incapable of keeping.

As I drove her to school, a knot in my stomach, I told her I was sorry for breaking my promise. When I asked her how I could make it up to her, she said that she just wanted us to try again tomorrow. Her forgiveness only made me feel worse. I watched her as she ran to the playground, the knot tightening as I worried about her drowning in the sea of children. When I could no longer see her, I drove home.

On the way, I thought of the many ways I have neglected my duties as wife and mother. I hate to admit it, but I have discovered that it is easier to neglect a child (and a husband) than I once believed. I do not think my goals are lofty because I have seen many women who gush of the life I am striving for (my husband's mother is the best among them). So I know it can be done.

I am usually one to look on the positive side of things, but today the only thing I feel I am successful at is failure.

It isn't just about the lost race to the bus stop. I wish it was. It is about a cluttered home, dozens of unfinished projects, late appointments, procrastinated intentions, and unmet promises. It is about a pile of unfolded laundry, a sink and counter full of dishes, a sticky dining room floor, weeds growing in the yard and mold growing in the toilet, to name only a few.

I looked in the rear view mirror at my babies, one of each kind, and wondered if they would get a better mom than their big sister. As I parked in front of our home, I could hear my daughter's words echoing in my head.

I hope God doesn't mind that I pray daily for super powers because I think that's what it's going to take to pull this thing off.