"I'm a MOM" . . .

OK, I have to share this, because it is one of those defining moments where I realized, A. I am losing my marbles, Secondly, I'm in my 30's, and Finally, and Lastly, I am officially MOM! No amount of preparation, observation or determination in "pulling it together" or "keeping it together" (whatever it may be) can prepare you for moments like these where all you can do is laugh, because there is nothing else you can do, and then the light goes on and the simple phrase runs through your mind, "I'm a mom!" No, all of the spit-up, blow-out diapers, sleepless nights, screaming babies/children, mortifying moments in the grocery store, airport and public bathrooms, didn't do the trick. But last Sunday, I had that defining "MOM" moment, that only a mother can understand. I was running in and out of our house, somewhat frantically, in an organized-frenzy sort of way (my new term for my Sunday mornings) loading the car with a basket full of visuals for Aaron’s Young Women’s lesson (yes, you heard right--they recruited him to teach the 1st Sunday lesson), the kids' Sunday bag with coloring pages, Friend magazines, crayons, snacks and waters, my primary stuff, and then the kids, my darling children. I was racing the clock to make it out the door and in the car by 8:45a.m. to get to church right on time. And I was happy as I locked the door, after scanning my front room one last time and glancing at the clock on the wall that indicated 8:44 . . . Perfect! I headed off, knowing I had thought of everything, I was prepared, organized, we would be on time for 9 a.m. church!! We were half way there, and then 3/4 of the way there, and I thought, "we are going to be in our seats before the opening hymn even starts!" what a break-through! . . . And then, something didn't feel quite right. My feet felt oddly comfortable (and that is never the case on Sundays) . . .I looked down, and to my horror, I hadn’t switched my shoes, which were sitting right next to the door--my cute pointy terribly uncomfortable shoes that went perfectly with my outfit, . . . No! Panic suddenly rose from my very comfy toes all the way to my throat as the reality set in: I was still wearing Aaron’s big brown Crocs! For a split second I almost slammed on the brakes and turned around to go home, change shoes and just be late for church . . . and then I remembered that Aaron was conducting Sacrament Meeting, . . . for the first time on a Fast Sunday, and I know how much it means to him, lifts his spirits, lightens his load, puts him at ease, puts a big smile on his face, etc. etc. to look down and see his family sitting there, smiling back up at him . . . so I continued on to church and walked in looking like a classy lady from my head down to my ankles and then like a big ol’ clown! Yes, Aaron’s Crocs, which are HUGE—not even my own Crocs!!! I told Aaron it was a symbol of my love for him!! I hope everytime he slips them on, he remembers how much his once classy wife, once "cute young mom" now turned just plain old "MOM" loves him! I walked around for 3 hours of church, in and out of Primary, past mingling Ward members, who smiled politely, knowingly, and somewhat confused, with my head held high, and with the phrase blaring in my head like a flashing traffic light: "I'm a mom!", no apologies, no excuses, there it is, simple as that. And, I love it!