Matching is overrated

My best friend and I were together this weekend and something someone said reminded of us the time she wore one of these:

With one of THESE.
Meaning -- at the same time, as a PAIR.

I'm sure the hilarity of the situation is not lost on you, my savvy, witty readers!

It was a week after she'd had her second baby and she was rushing to the lactation consultant -- newborn in one hand, ushering preschooler with the other and she just jammed her feet into whatever shoes were under her bed. She drove all the way to the appointment, got out of the car, walked into the office, checked in and sat in the waiting room filling out paperwork before she noticed. Truth be told, *she* didn't notice. The receptionist had to POINT IT OUT TO HER. Imagine her utter surprise when she looked down to find that not only was she not wearing two black shoes or two sporty shoes, but two completely different styles of shoes and colors! (Her driving moc was black patent and her Puma was grey.)

In her sleep deprived fog, she had managed not to notice this oversight. And as you may recall, this is the woman who wore heels and met me for lunch while she was basically in active labor. Seriously. This made me realize (again) that having a baby is overwhelming even for people who have done it before and are usually pretty together.

So whenever I start to hyperventilate or work myself up into a lather freaking out about how, with two newborns and a toddler, the house will stay clean or how I'll be able to stay on top of the laundry, or when I will ever sleep again, I just try to remember what happened to my best friend and laugh it off. She's human and so am I. Perfection is not something to strive for, but survival certainly is. So things won't get done, I might not wear matching shoes sometimes, things are going to be crazy for a little while, but we'll make it. There's no other option. The important thing is that we try our very best to enjoy and cherish the time with our children because it is all too fleeting. Before we know it, we'll be going on college visits with them. Ack. Don't get me started.

As for my friend, four months later, I am happy to report I have only spotted her in matching shoes, clean (chic!) clothes and everyone is alive, well, adorable and thriving. She survived and so will I. I'll even go so far to say that someday, maybe, just maybe, I'll meet her for lunch wearing heels (that match).