No, um… a REALLY hard time.  As in, sometimes we don’t make it.

Oh, fine, the truth is that we are late more often than we are not.  And when we ARE on time, we arrive panting, flapping, and with our hair frizzing up to the heavens.

So if you didn’t know anything about me, you’d go on the information you had:  I’m that harried mom who is late and flustered all the time.

(Can you imagine how mortified I feel when the other parents ask me what I do, and I say, “I’m a life coach!”  and they look at me like– yeaaaaah.  Someone who helps people run their lives better???  I feel like a total fraud.  Luckily, I have black-belt self-coaching techniques in my back pocket and so I overcome it pretty quickly, with only a few nips from the whiskey flask I keep in my other back pocket.)

Sometimes they make helpful suggestions in a really nice, kind tone of voice, like “Have you tried a chart?” and I try not to snarl at them.

YES, WE’VE TRIED A CHART.  WE’VE TRIED EVERYTHING.

My point is, sometimes I feel like a total loser because I can do many things in my life with ease and aplomb and sometimes even grace, but getting my five-year-old to school on time is not one of them.  And for lots of people I see every day, that is the sum total of my identity:

The woman with the frizzy hair who is late all the time.

But then I had a very cheering realization.

I’m not really a harried single mom.

I just play one right now in the theater of my life.

Specifically, I play one every morning from 7:15 to 8am.

It’s not awesome.  And we’re working on the tardiness thing.  (Did I mention we’ve tried everything??)

But here’s the thing:  I’m a lot of other people, too.  I’m a lover, a laugher, a poet, a dreamer.  I’m a damn good alchemist (you could also call me a coach).  I’m an enchantress, a witch, a taster, a delighter.  I’m a listener, a talker, a beamer, a snarker.

And when I remember all that, I don’t mind so much, playing the harried single mom every morning from 7:15 to 8am.

I bet you play parts too.  It helps to remember that they’re just temporary.  They’re just one little sliver of the rich panoply of you.

Underneath all that, who are you really?  Send me a note on facebook and tell me your true identity.  I’d love to hear it.