Hustle is a Wench

Some days my heart looks at my soul in such disappointment. Today is one of those days. Disappointment.
The start of a new school year brings such excitement and apprehension for my genetic offspring. And hustle. It brings hustle. Cause the bus comes at 7:00 am. And BT opens one eye at 6:57 and moans the moan of exhaustion. Then rolls over and dreams of This Old House episodes. Cause that is his heaven.

This morning- Day 3 -was no different nor could we free ourselves from the entanglement of the hustle. And now I sit at work, less than 30 minutes after departing from my children and my heart sits in judgement. Judgement because I set the tone for the day. I make or break the day. I am the biggest influence in their lives. And today I missed it. I missed the bar. I missed the peace. I missed the parenting skills needed for my kids.
And after all the rush and hustle, we missed the bus. And right there at the bus stop as we watched him pull away, all wailing and gnashing of teeth broke out -- in front of God and everybody.

Some days, I miss it. I miss the mark. Today was one of those days. It's official, Hustle is a wench.