Jon and I are fairly organized, efficient people. Ever since the days of being the last kid picked up from piano lessons or field hockey practice, I've vowed I would never be late. I may have taken things a little too far. As my one friend puts it - "Janine is notoriously early." But having a baby around has definitely challenged our timing. Running errands is no longer a spur of the moment decision, now I must plan them into my schedule. We no longer have leisurely Sunday mornings, as both of us our tag-teaming with the baby to get out the door by 8:15. And getting ready to head to work and drop Jack off at the babysitter requires more than one trip to the car to get everything in.
Jack got dedicated in our home church while we were in over Christmas. The night before, Jon's final words to his sister (who is nearly his opposite in matters of timeliness) were, "If you're late to church you're un-invited to my birthday dinner." [As a sidenote, Rachel does have 4 active little boys to get ready for church]. Sunday morning rolls around and what-do-you-know Rachel and her boys have second row seats, and the junior Tillman's nearly miss Jack's dedication when they arrive two-minutes late. Jon says it's my fault. I will admit to being the last one out the door that morning, but only because according to his watch I had 10 minutes to spare. Apparently his watch was wrong. So thank you Jack for that delicious slice of humble pie, it was the perfect dessert to Jon's birthday dinner.
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