{ A Mother's Heels }

You know how they say women who don't know how to walk in heels shouldn't wear them. Well, mothers are on a whole 'notha level than your average (child-less) woman. Mothers who don't know how to run in heels shouldn't wear them!

It's Sunday. I'm at church chasing after my 20 month old as he makes a run for it down the looooooooooong isle towards the front podium so he can run up "the stairs" (his favorite thing to play on). Normally I would just let my 'lil untamed beast go and have my husband go after him or I'll just turn my head and pretend that he is not my child, but since I was husband-less today I figured I better catch him early while he was only 5 pews ahead instead of waiting and then chasing him through the choir seats up in the front where the entire congregation is focused.

As I was chasing him down in my heels I was hating myself for my shoe selection this morning. I was running while at the same time trying to balance myself because I didn't want to be that mother who fell during sacrament meeting because her heel bent while she was running after her child and then nearly breaking her ankle along with her hand on her way down to the floor! (Trust. I've seen it happen).So I'm running down the isle, I start to feel my center of gravity shift annnnnnnnd...................I grab the back of my son's shirt and swoop him up! (and you thought I was going to fall. HA!) I'm SAAAAAAAFE! (no running to the front of the chapel for me and no falling on my face!)

As I'm walking my son out I think to myself, "Why am I STILL wearing heels?! This should have stopped when I was pregnant. An active kid + mommy in heels = highly possible disaster!" Then I realized I just can't give up my heels. I refuse to retire them just because I'm a 'mommy'. (The only time I've 'temporarily retired' them was when I was prego and that was because my legs and feet swelled causing cankles. lol) Not only do I hate flats but Sunday is the only day I really 'get ready' (as in put on some make up, tame my hair with hair product, and make sure my legs are shaven) Any other day you'll see me looking like a boy wearing my husband's basketball shorts, a T, slippers, and my hair pulled back in a bun or ponytail. Sundays are the only day I look together, like a woman. So since heels are the epitome of a womanly attire AND I mastered the art of running in heels, I'm going to keep rockin' these bad girls....or at least until the cankles return.