Rescheduling

This #thankyouthursday, I am grateful for rescheduling.

Yesterday I had an appointment at 1:30 p.m., which was supposed to give me just enough time after the caregiver left to feed the baby and myself and then hit the road.

But instead of moving swiftly to prepare lunch, I ended up fooling around on my phone. Not for long, but for long enough that by the time the baby started emptying his plate, I started worrying we might be late.

I hate being late. And though I am used to building in buffer time for my own dawdling, I am still not accustomed to the extra 15–30 minutes that wrangling a child somehow always seems to take.

So I considered my options; was being late even a possibility? Appointments in the quarantine era seem to be stricter. I definitely didn’t want to go to all the trouble of arriving only to be told to leave.

And then I remembered: rescheduling.

I was able to look at availability online, and within minutes I’d rebooked for next week.

Oh, the relief!

Somehow, rescheduling feels more satisfying than not having scheduled anything in the first place.

As we went on with our day, I noted the minute when we “should” have been getting in the car, but instead, B was contently gnawing a green bean. And by the time we “should” have been exiting the highway, we were sitting outside in the sun, playing with sticks.

The spaciousness felt like bliss.

And next week, we’ll try again (this time, for 2 p.m.).

Love > fear,
Christina

p.s. Are you familiar with HR1, aka the voting rights bill? If not, please educate yourself and ask your senators to pass this vital legislation. (And if you don’t understand why this bill is so necessary, hit reply and I will share more info.)