Turns out you can be on time without rushing // A slow(er) parenting routine.

Some people might read this post and think, Well… duh. And that’s okay. I know we’re all triggered by different things. But if this post can help even one parent slow down and reconsider what truly matters, then it’s worth writing it.

For the past few years, Tuesday afternoons have meant one thing for my children and I: swimming lessons. And for the first year of that routine, Tuesday afternoons were anything but my friend.

Let me give you some context. I grew up a perfectionist (an identity shaped by my own upbringing) and I’ve become a highly functional, pragmatic adult. Efficiency is my superpower. I plan. I tetris my schedule with precision. I optimise outcomes. And for the most part, this skillset serves me well.

But when it comes to parenting, particularly on Tuesdays at 2pm, this strength has sometimes worked against me.

Here was the schedule: pick up my kids from school at 2pm, drive 1.5 km to the pool, find parking, help them getting changed and be ready for their swimming lesson at 2:30 p.m. Everything slotted perfectly into place. I had this, right?

Well… not really.

Because beneath that seamless routine was a version of me that was rushed, anxious and hyper-focused on timing. My children could feel it. I could feel it. Our Tuesday afternoon car rides were often tense and filled with snapped reminders about hurrying up.

My eldest daughter, sensitive and intuitive, mirrored my stress. And her reactions only amplified my guilt. I began asking myself: Why does this feel so hard? Why doesn’t “on time” feel like a win? And if it doesn’t feel good... What can I change?

These questions became a turning point.

One day, it hit me: I wasn’t rushing because we were late. I was rushing because I was anxious about being late. And that anxiety didn’t always match reality. We were on time more often than not - but I wasn’t present enough to notice.

The stress wasn’t in the clock. It was in my head.

I started noticing how much of my parenting, especially on those moments like our Tuesday afternoons, felt like a checklist. I was managing tasks, not nurturing experiences. Ticking boxes, not connecting. I had turned our family rhythm into something mechanical: predictable, structured and emotionally dry.

And rushing became my default speed - not because it was necessary, but because it gave me the illusion of being in control. The illusion of the flawless execution.

And do you know the biggest irony of all? Deciding to take my children to swimming lessons was totally my choice, because I wanted to enjoy that time with them.

One day, I finally told myself: Martina, rushing doesn’t make you faster. It just makes you more anxious.

I started asking myself a quiet but important question: if I keep parenting this way, what am I trading for efficiency?

The answer was clear. What gets lost in the rush are the very things I care most about: connection, warmth, shared moments, emotional safety.

And so I began to slow down. Little by little. Intentionally.

These days, our Tuesdays feel different. We still have the very same schedule, but now it’s less of a frantic rush. Sometimes we indulge in the school playground a little longer. We take time to notice things. We chat in the car about our days. We sing silly songs. We laugh. I’m no longer glued to the clock or rehearsing worst-case scenarios in my head.

And you know what I’ve learned? That we can still get to the swimming lesson on time, without the pressure, without the panic and without rushing.

Letting go of that anxious energy didn’t mean I stopped being organised. It just meant I stopped being ruled by it. And that simple shift has made all the difference.

And those rare Tuesdays that we end up arriving 5 minutes late, nobody shouts at us. Nobody gives us a fine. And no one thinks we’re disrespectful.

To be clear - punctuality still matters to me. I believe being on time shows respect for others, and I want my children to understand the value of that. But there’s a difference between valuing punctuality and being consumed by the anxiety of being late.

What I’ve come to realise is that much of that anxiety was self-imposed. Often, even when we slow down, we still arrive on time. The pressure I felt wasn’t always real - it was just in my head.

I was so busy mentally scanning for what might go wrong that I couldn’t see what was going right, and what could go right.

It breaks my heart to think that, for a while, I traded those small moments of joy for the illusion of control. I wasted a lot of Tuesdays. But this is how self-growth happens: in the willingness to pause and look at the parts of ourselves we usually tend to ignore.

Growth begins when we get curious about our reactions, rather than just managing them. When we observe our patterns and intentionally ask: is this really serving me? Is this how I want to feel?

So if you’re in a season where parenting and life feel like a never-ending overwhelming checklist, consider this post as an invitation to pause. To breathe. To choose presence over perfection. Breathe deeply until you feel calm, then think about what you might be able to change.

If you’re always anxious about being late, think of my Tuesdays. As it turns out, you can be on time without being in a hurry. And there’s so much to gain when you stop rushing.

And even when you’re not on time, the world doesn’t end. You’ll be okay, and your kids will be okay.