"The one" can mean a few different things to me. There's the one that rocks your world, knows your heart, and holds your hand. Then there's the one we always look for at the Navy balls. You know, the one with a too-short dress paired with too-high heels. And there's the one at the department store that you look at with either pity and long-distance support or with annoyance.
I think I've been them all.
It goes without saying that I am Scott's one and only. He picked me...he says so! And he knows he's in trouble if anything ever happens to me. For Scott there may truly only be one! The year he made chief, we celebrated with his fellow inductees at the Chief's Ball. Gracie was just three months old and I (a breastfeeding mother away from her little one for several hours) wore a halter top dress. My "it" factor that night was definitely that as time went on I became the one for a while...but a little pumping brought me back to unembarrassing arm candy for my sailor!
And there's the social experiment known as Walmart. I clearly recall feeling exhausted and overwhelmed one day, trying to will the children into behaving. My eyes met those of another mother who's empathy clearly showed. But today I didn't make eye contact because I think I would have met some frustrated customers' glares.
Jace and Gracie started school today and Tyler and I made our first trip out alone. He was determined to walk. I know, hind sight is 20/20. I probably shouldn't have given in to my 19 month old quite so quickly. But I did. And he excitedly ran amock in the store. I couldn't catch him because I had to keep stopping to put things back on the shelves. And when I caged him in the dressing room so I could try to figure out what bra size I wear now that he's done nursing, he rattled the door the whole time. Thankfully, though, he doesn't know how to turn the handle. While I was handing my unwanted clothes to the dressing room attendant Tyler stopped in his tracks and looked at me, obviously pushing. And we smelled it too! Oh my.
We headed back to the restroom, on the way picking up a package of diapers because I was all out in the diaper bag. Not very on top of things, am I? I changed him and realized that he'd leaked onto his shorts, so I took those off too. Now my little independant monkey had a shirt and shoes, and a clean diaper, but no pants. I considered letting him be, but I still didn't have him wrangled in the cart. Walking on his own, it seemed that he should have his diaper covered. So, I tackled him and put on a new pair of Garanimals shorts right there in the aisle. Once we'd finished picking up all the ingredients for tonight's tropical salsa, I picked him up to scan his shorts. Check out complete!
Hopefully I'll resist being the center of attention at parties and stores and stick to being Scott's match made in heaven. That's the one I want to be.