Running late

Time exists just on your wrist so don't panic. That's a lyric from one of my favourite Travis songs, Indefinitely. And in a way, it's true - we place time pressures on ourselves but time is a construct of our own making.

However, one thing I have learned since becoming a mum, and more so since becoming a working mum, is that time can really run away with you.

I had two trains to catch on two different days for meetings in London this week. I was up early, had both mine and Ethan's clothes picked out and bags packed the night before. There was no rushing needed; we enjoyed a bit of playtime that we wouldn't usually have before I have to whisk him to nursery, as my trains were a bit later than my usual start time. 

I left the house when I intended to and dropped Ethan off with ease. But somehow, between the crazy traffic into the city, work related phone calls en route and the current long-winded walk from the car park to New Street station, I ended up missing both trains. Not by minutes but by seconds. Literally, I was standing there as the doors closed a minute before departure and there was nothing I could do to get on board.

I hate being late and particularly when you've made every effort to be there on time, it's so frustrating that you can still find yourself behind schedule.

With a little one in tow, things that took minutes before can now take an age, particularly as they get older and much more determined to do things their way. Some days it feels like all you're doing is chasing your tail.

How do you cope with juggling being a parent and going to work? Have you unlocked the secrets of time travel or do you feel like each day is like Sliding Doors, where one minute either way can make all the difference?