new-momYesterday morning should have been perfect. I had it all organized, down to the minute. I planned to get a walk-in blowout right after I dropped off the kids, to get myself prepped for shooting some video. It could actually work if we were on schedule. If we could just get out the door on time, that is. I let the kids know I had an appointment, and a tight schedule, and requested their help so that we could be a little better than usual. The plan was:

  • 8:15 Drop kids.
  • 8:30 Blow-Out.
  • 9:30 Shoot video for blog.
  • 10:30 Podcast interview.
  • 12:00 Lunch and Done.

It was tight, but it was doable.

Miracle of miracles, it was 8 o’clock, and we were in the van, on our way to school. It was going to work!


“Mom? I forgot my jacket. I’m really cold. Do we have time to go get it?” It was Ben, my 13-year-old. “Um…” I replied, hesitating. “Oh,” Ben said, “I forgot, you have that appointment! Never mind, Mom, I’ll be fine!” It was one of those mornings where it looked nice out but it was actually really cold. “No, Ben, it’s okay. Just go quickly, okay?” I turned the van around, and back we went, throwing my schedule off by 10 minutes. Ben ran upstairs, got the jacket, jumped back in the van, and we sped off. “Gosh, I was freezing!” exclaimed Ben. I was glad we got his jacket.

As I drove them to their schools, I thought to myself, This is still doable. I might still be able to make my blowout and do the video.

But then… 

“Susan? Can I talk to you about something?” It was a special-needs mom-friend of mine from Ben’s school, who approached me as I was dropping him off. “Sure, what’s up?” I replied. Turns out my friend was struggling with an issue with her son, and wanted to talk to me about it. I considered. I was already 10 minutes late for my appointment, but this mom really needed to talk. I know her, and I know that as a single working mom, she doesn’t get much time to debrief with other moms. I stepped out of my van to talk to her.

40 minutes later, I arrived back at my house. No blowout. Schedule f**’d. I just laughed it off. The expression, “Man plans, and God laughs,” ran through my mind—as it CONSTANTLY does. Only I think of it as, “Moms plan, and God laughs.” But hey, that’s who I am. I’m a mom. A good mom. A good friend to my mom-friends.

The blowout can wait.