My daughter regularly accuses me of cursing her with it. I think it’s one of the few really good things I passed on to her. What is this trait that I’ve forced on her psyche? It’s the need to be absolutely and always on time.
I don’t know why I have this deeply ingrained habit because Lord knows, our family was never on time for anything. Maybe that was because there were three boys in the mix and let’s face it, they were hopeless. And I can say that because I grew up with them. I don’t have exact memory clips of these times and have this stylized version of me sitting on the sofa in my pretty dress and Mary Janes, still and calm, while everyone races around in Quicksilver time grabbing jackets, ties, and looking for the errant shoe. But in all honesty, what snippets I did retain involve a lot of racing up and down stairs before throwing myself out the door.
So where and how did I cultivate this unique habit? I remember my mom standing at the door with a stern face, purse in hand, and can almost hear a foot tap, although I think that’s an embellishment. Maybe I inherited it but that doesn’t explain the elevated heartbeat or the flop sweat I experience while I tick down the minutes in my head.
I have always chalked it up to my Capricorn quirkiness because it fit so well into the narrative of my life, which included things like detail oriented, list keeping, and other good habits. My star sign has served me well.
Then I found the blog Personal Growth by Margie Peterson which has a wealth of information and handy tips. I zeroed in on the post titled 5 Secrets of People Who Are Always on Time like a battle drone. It was a revelation that gave deeper answers to the why, things like valuing my time and the time of others, and being on time helps with stress and confidence. All of these resonated and, while I appreciated the confirmation, I always had the feeling that I wasn’t just obsessed with time but actually planned the events of my life to be better for me and for those with whom I came in contact. I just couldn’t put it into words.
Now that the words exist, I’ve sent the post to my daughter, along with the note “See? It’s a good thing!” You never stop being a mom.