When it comes to getting off to school, Ashton has one speed: slow. This morning he was all ready. He was ready long before it was time to leave. Except he didn’t have his shoes on. 15 minutes before it was time to go, I told him to put his shoes on. I reminded him softly probably close to five THOUSAND times. Still, no shoes. Then, of course, when it’s time to go, he still doesn’t have shoes on and he still can’t find shoes. Finally, he put his shoes on and we headed out the door at 8:58. School starts at 9. Then, often we get to the gate, and I realize that he didn't put his backpack on. Back to the house we go. This isn’t just a story about today. This is the story of every day. Luckily it only takes us 3-4 minutes to walk to school, but it takes Ashton at least that long because he refuses to hurry. He mosies along without a care in the world. This used to bother me a lot more than it does now. Now, I try to remember that it’s his problem, not mine. I shouldn’t care that much that he’s late for school. I just feel bad that he makes London late fairly often. He told me on the way to school that last week when they had a babysitter before school, he was really early. She must have put his shoes on for him.