A sense of urgency.

Back when I was a high powered bookstore manager with oodles of people working for me, I was often in the position to coach, counsel and/or otherwise flog people for poor performance.

One of the very vague, yet very real things that showed up with certain people time and time again was "lacks a sense of urgency."

What this means, in layman's terms, is:

Slower than Christmas.
Slower than dirt.
Slower than dial-up.
Slower than speaking French with a phrase book.

It also means easily distracted or unable to complete simple tasks quickly.

I have a lot of experience with people who lack a sense of urgency.

I have coached and trained them for years.  And years.  And years.

But nothing, and I do mean NOTHING, could have prepared me for getting zj ready for school and out the door every morning.

For years, I silently mocked couldn't relate to parents who would talk about looking forward to weekends so they could sleep in, how sending kids to school was a full-time job, etc.

Oh, now I get it.

Do I ever get it.

Here's how a typical morning goes:

5:30 am:  I jump out of bed just before the alarm goes off (every time, of course), shower, dress and head downstairs.
6:00 am:  Coffee is made, breakfast for the boys is ready, I check email, maybe throw in a load of laundry, pay some bills, putter online...
6:30 am: I head upstairs to wake zj.

Me: "Z, honey, time to get up."
"Z, honey, wake up."
"Z, time for school!  Wake up!"
"Z, are you awake?"
"Breakfast time, baby.  Get up please."
"Z, get up, please.  Honey?"
"Z. Get. Up."
"Z. Time. To. Get. Up."
"GET. UP. NOW."
"NOW!"

Zj: "Mama, don't wanna.  I'm too tiiiiirrrrrreeeeeddddd."

Me: "You don't want to miss school today do you?  Today is library day!!!"

Zj: "My legs are too tiiiiiirrrrrreeeeeeddddd.  I can't get uuuuuppppp."

6:40 am: Zj is up and sitting in front of his breakfast, but only because I physically picked him up, slung his body over my shoulder, and carried him downstairs.

Me: "Zj, I need you to eat."
"Eat please."
"Zj, we don't have a lot of time.  Please eat your breakfast."
"Sit up straight and eat please."
"Zj, stop trying to lay down.  You need to eat."
"Eat. Your. Breakfast."
"EAT!"
"NOW!"

6:47 am:  Zj sits up straight, suddenly wide awake, and jumps back into the middle of a conversation we had several days ago.

Zj:  "And I think that Ironman could beat Spider-Man in a fight, if they got mad at each other because Spider-Man only has webs as weapons and Ironman has blasters in his hands and Mama, did you know yesterday at recess, two girls in my class were trying to RIP ME TO PIECES?  They were.  Really.  One got one hand and one got the other hand and they tried to pull me apart and today we might get to have a popsicle party at school..."

Me:  "Stop talking and eat."
"Stop talking and eat."
"Stop talking and eat."
"Stop talking and eat."
"Stop talking and eat."
"Stop talking and eat."

7:02 am (TWO MINUTES OFF SCHEDULE, I MIGHT ADD):

Me: "Zj, time to go upstairs and get ready.  Here's what I need you to do.  Go upstairs, brush your teeth, go pee, wash your hands - WITH SOAP - and change into your school clothes.  They're already out for you.  Can you handle it while I clean up breakfast?"

Zj: "I know, Mama, I KNOW."

7:05 am:

Me: "Zj, are you brushing your teeth?"

Zj: "I'm just getting ready to!  Really!"

7:08 am: I head upstairs, and see zj, still in his pajamas, sitting in his floor playing with a Batman figure.

Me: "BRUSH YOUR TEETH!" in my best possessed-by-demons voice.

Zj jumps up, runs into the bathroom and I hear water splashing.  I pick up the toys, then round the corner to the bathroom, where I see zj sitting on the edge of the FULL sink, splashing water up on the mirror and making boat noises.

Me: "OH MY GAWD BRUSH YOUR TEETH AND THEN GO PEE THEN WASH YOUR HANDS WITH SOAP DO IT AND DO IT NOW OR REALLY REALLY BAD THINGS THAT I CANNOT EVEN THINK OF RIGHT NOW WILL HAPPEN TO YOU DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?"

Zj: "Ok, Mama, I was just getting ready to."

Me: *Head blows completely off.*

7:23 am: Zj is combed, dressed, brushed, and otherwise groomed.   Mostly.

Me: "Zj, head downstairs and get your shoes on.  Mama needs a nip of gin just a minute, ok?"

7:27 am: I head downstairs, where I see zj, sitting in the couch, fidgeting and swinging his still bare feet.

Me: "RJ! GET DOWN HERE RIGHT NOW AND GET THIS CHILD READY FOR SCHOOL BEFORE I DO BODILY HARM TO HIM AND HE HAS BEEN TOO DAMN MUCH TROUBLE TO WASTE ALL THE EFFORT ON SO YOU'D BETTER GET DOWN HERE RIGHT THIS MINUTE BEFORE CJ IS AN ONLY CHILD AND WHY CAN'T HE JUST GET FREAKIN' READY FOR SCHOOL ONE TIME WITHOUT MY YELLING AT HIM AND OH GREAT LOOK AT THAT NOW CJ IS AWAKE AND ALL I WANT IS FOR THIS CHILD TO HAVE HIS SHOES ON FOR CRYING OUT LOUD IS THAT TOO MUCH TO ASK FOR ONCE?"

RJ: "Z, buddy, put your shoes on, ok?"

Zj: "Ok, Daddy."

Me: *Full blown explosion of head, complete with wailing, gnashing of teeth, speaking in tongues and twitching of eyelids.*

7:30 am: Zj and I are out the door to catch the bus, and the hardest hour of my day is officially over.

Well, till the next day, anyway, when we get to do it all over again.