A Furry Fashion Statement...or not?

Do you remember A Christmas Story, when Ralphie’s brother tips over with his snowsuit on? The poor kid is lying there on his back in the snow, rocking back and forth like a turtle or bug. He struggles to get up, but he can’t, no matter how hard he tries.

That, my friends, is what we call the snowsuit experience.

But it doesn’t end there. Now imagine getting a six- month-old and a two-year-old into snowsuits and then fastening them into their car seats. It’s like trying to stuff marshmallows into a piggy bank. Needless to say, it’s a struggle.

One particular winter morning, I got up early so I’d have plenty of time to feed the boys, dress them, stuff them into their snowsuits, get them into the car, and drop them off at my mother-in-law’s house for day care. I had everything perfectly planned out, so I’d have plenty of time to make it to the conference I was leading that morning.

But everything on my perfectly-planned-out timeline went wrong. Max didn’t want to eat his breakfast, get dressed, or do anything but run around the house half-naked. Meanwhile, Sam was eating like a champ . . . but little did I know, he would spit up all that food on me just a few minutes later. Hello, acid- reflux boy!

So I got Sam into new clothes and even managed to get Max into some clothes as well. Then I changed into a different suit so I’d still look sharp for the conference.

We were finally ready to hit the road. I threw on some shoes and stuffed Sam into his snowsuit and his car seat. Once he was set, I ran back inside to get Max and repeat the process all over again.

At this point, I was sweating profusely, despite it being five degrees below zero. Ugh! I grabbed my workbag and purse and ran out the door.

Halfway to day care, I realized I didn’t even have a coat on. I couldn’t believe what an idiot I was. How could a Minne-snow-tan forget to wear a jacket in the middle of winter? Especially me, because I am always cold. The only time I’m not cold, apparently, is when I’m running toddlers to the car and stuffing them in car seats.

Houston, we have a problem!

As I laughed at myself, I began to notice a strange sensation: my feet were really warm. How was that possible? I didn’t want to do it, but at the next stoplight, I forced myself to look down at my feet. Instantly, my heart sank into my stomach.

I wasn’t wearing my heels. My feet felt so warm because I was wearing my black Mammoth Crocs. You know, the ones with the supreme fleece-lined stuffing that makes you feel as if you were walking on clouds?

This might be a good time to also mention that I have canoes for feet. Meaning, no one, at any time, thinks my size 10.5 feet are cute. (Just ask my husband, who tells me all the time that he didn’t marry me for my feet.)

Now what could I do? There was no way I could drop off the kids at my mother-in-law’s, go all the way back to my house, and still get to the conference on time.

All right . . . think, Kari. How in the world can we get ourselves out of this situation? Can we possibly make it to Kohl’s and back before the event begins?

I ran a few short calculations. First, I determined that I still hated math and numbers. Second, I determined there was no way I could make it to Kohl’s or any store, find a pair of shoes, and still make it to the venue before the conference started.

With no other options, I did what I always do: I made the most of it. I knew I would definitely not win any fashion awards for pairing my Mammoth Crocs with my tapered-leg business suit, but I walked right into the conference anyway. (And yes, it did feel as though I were walking on clouds.)

Because embarrassing moments are not new to me, I found a funny way to tie the Crocs and my story into my welcome message. Guess what happened. People laughed. My audience connected with me on a whole new level. It was no longer an embarrassing moment for me. It was a relationship- building moment.

Living with the Lid Up Lesson

I think this quote, popularized by Art Linkletter and John Wooden, really sums up this chapter and many of the chapters in my life: “Things turn out best for the people who make the best out of the way things turn out.”

Let’s be human, let’s make mistakes, let’s be easier on ourselves, and let’s enjoy every moment of life. After all, we get only one chance at this whole life thing. 

This is an excerpt from my book, "Living with the Lid Up!"