As many moms were packing lunches, correcting bed head, and keeping breakfast off of new shirts for their kids’ first day of school, I was doing the same mommy hustle for my 8 month old.

It was time to ship my little Ethan to daycare. We’d spent the past 8 months together hanging out at the house, napping, laughing and drooling.

But because I was failing at carving out time to do my freelance work with an infant around (imagine that!) it was time for me to ship him off and into to the hands of someone else. Daycare.

I love my daycare. I always have. My eldest, Logan, has been going there since he was 7 months old and the ladies have been chomping at the bit to get their mitts on my youngest boy.

So the morning starts off great, we have breakfast, the bags are packed, the new clothes are on, I’d even taken the obligatory “First Day” picture. Then it happens. (Experienced moms, you know where this is headed.)

We have a blowout. OK. Time to switch to the back-up outfit. I’m a little harried because I need to get the kids to school since I have to interview a CEO this morning for a story. So far I’m doing alright on time.

We’re out the door and on the road. I’m zipping along and to save time decide to test out the new shortcut I found the other day. We zigzag through an office park. (Experienced drivers, you know where this is headed.)

Flashing lights in my rearview mirror. Expletives. A siren. Another expletive. Prayers that expletives wouldn’t be repeated at daycare.

The officer apologizes for giving me a ticket, explaining that he had to because he was assigned to set up a speed trap there since people had complained about all the cars whizzing by. I apparently am not alone in thinking 25 mph is waaaayyy too slow for that wending road.

In Illinois when you get a speeding ticket, they usually take your driver’s license and give you a yellow carbon copy of the ticket that you’re to use in place of the license. It’s annoying to say the least. As he’s handing me the flimsy piece of paper and apologizing again for giving me a ticket (wth?) all I could think about was how I can’t buy alcohol at my grocery store anymore.

(Yes, they still card me and I love it. I’m sure they have a must-card-everyone-under-50 rule, but I tell myself it’s because I still look young.)

But we are back on the road again and by now I am getting worried about being late for my interview.

I pull into the daycare, usher Logan inside the school while carrying Ethan in his carseat and a Mary Poppins-esque diaper bag. The daycare teachers are squealing, awwwing and fawning over Ethan.

The evil in me wants to say: Yes, he’s cute. I love him. You’ll love him. Now take him. I’m going to be late.”

But I don’t. My good side exchanges the necessary pleasantries and then I zip back home. No speeding ticket this time. (Yay!) And I arrive 20 minutes before my interview was to start. (Double yay!)

I smiled triumphantly. I had survived the first First Day of School Morning! Now this afternoon I just needed to remember to swing by the liquor store where I’m known on a first-name basis.