A BROKEN FLIP FLOP - MY MESSY BEAUTIFUL

It was a sunny day, I was basking in the day-after-my-birthday glow, and indulging in a pedicure courtesy of my sweet mom. Pedicure went great. It was relaxing, and my toes looked brand new, if you can say that about toes. I was feeling good. I picked up my 18 month old son, Desmond, from my mom's, and we headed off to go grocery shopping at Walmart. I was still wearing my bright pink temporary flip flops because when you get a pedicure like once a year, you do. not. want. to. mess. it. up. Plus, I kinda enjoy the reckless abandon that is a throw-away pair of shoes. What can I say, I'm wild and crazy.

Desmond and I get into Walmart and grab a shopping cart. I put him in the front and off we go. We start filling the cart with stuff. Then, there it is, in the middle of the grocery store, a small basketball shooting game, the kind you'd see at an arcade. Little mini basketballs just waiting for us. A March madness promotion it seems.

The scene of the flip flop massacre.

Desmond asks to play (note, he says "ball, mommie, ball), so we play. I'm getting all Kevin Durant on this game, Desmond fouls a couple times, balls are rolling across the store, and when I turn ninja quick to grab an escapee ball ... my right flip flop breaks. The middle thingy that goes between the toes (technical term) completely snaps off.

Are you kidding me? Game over.

I inspect the flip flop further to see if I can rig it to make it through the grocery trip. No go. I have decisions. I have an entire cart of food, a toddler currently obsessing over mini basketballs, and a brand new sparkling pedicure.

Should I back track putting the groceries back up, and call it a day?*
Do I leave the cart in the middle of the store and run out to the car to grab my shoes?*
Would my cart still be here when I got back?*
Would people think I abandoned it?*
Would people grab groceries out of it?*
Should I tell someone?*
I finally decide the shoes would likely mess up my pedicure anyway so maybe I'll just make this work somehow.*
 (*first world problems)

I start scooting, Frankenstein-esque, around the store. Dragging one leg on the floor so as to keep the bottom flip flop foam between my sole and the floor. Nothing to see here folks, nothing to see. I find some satisfaction imagining how Mindy Kaling from The Mindy Project would handle this. I conclude she would talk someone into pushing her around in a cart as she finishes shopping. I like the idea, but decide as much as I love her, I'm no Mindy. In the end, the trip takes twice as long as it normally would, but it works. We make it through the check out line and out the sliding doors. And then it happens.

The most inopportune time for chivalry, in the Walmart parking lot. A man in a Jeep stops to let me through the cross walk. What a gentlemen. Only it's going to take me forever and he's going to be sitting there forever. What to do. What to do.

I wave him on. Dude, please go, really.

No, you, really. Polite wave.

He's not moving.

Things again start running through my head.

Do I point to my feet and make some weak sign language attempt to let him know I've got walking issues?
Do I simply refuse to move from my spot, avoiding eye contact?
Is there enough of a downward slope right here that I could jump on the back of the cart and just coast across?
Do I turn around and go back in the store, resanitize my cart handle maybe?

I'm getting nervous now. He's still waiting. Politely.

It's going to take me forever to walk/scoot myself across the cross walk. Dang yellow angled lines looking like a vast ocean I need to traverse. So what do I do in that moment?

I rip off the flip flops and I skedaddle Wilma Flintstone style at the most brisk pace one can when pushing a basket, trying the whole time not to imagine what I might be picking up along the way. And guess what? I can't explain the liberation I felt. At that moment I didn't care what Jeep guy thought of me, or who else was watching.

Yeah, that's right people, I am walking barefoot to my car! Hey, Hillary Clinton, let me have a run at that glass ceiling! Ok, I think that last part is probably taking it a bit far, but that was the feeling I had. Fearless, strong, who-gives-a-puck kinda stuff. Beyonce's "Grown Woman" song playing in my head - I'm a grown woman, I can do whatever I want.

When I  finally get into my car I start laughing, because honestly it was so ridiculous. And it was life! And that's how life can be sometimes. I think it's those little moments, those often ridiculous moments, good and bad, that make life go, that make life interesting. But for me, those things can often turn frustrating quick because they don't fit into the plan I have for my life ... or I care too much what people think ... or are you kidding me God, just give me a break already!

But here's the thing I'm starting to realize, life throws broken flip flops at us all the time - not literally flip flops of course - I'm talking losing jobs, broken relationships, money problems, etcetera. And we can freak out and leave the cart in the middle of the store or we can make it work, whatever it is. We can scoot ourselves around like frankenmommy at times, barely walking but still putting one foot in front of the other. We can get up 20 more times when the baby cries. We can sit down with our spouse, listen, and have the hard conversations. And we can also throw the flip flop off fearlessly. We can work on not caring so much what people think, and do what needs to be done. We can start that company, we can make that tough phone call, we can put our creations out into the world despite our fears.

Borrowing a mantra from Glennon Melton (with a slight word change), WE CAN DO TOUGH THINGS.

You can do tough things.

And trust me, I realize the whole broken flip flop saga is not a "tough thing" in the scheme of things, but you get what I'm saying.

We are capable of so much more than we think. You, beautiful person, are so much stronger, insightful and important than you give yourself credit. And I'm saying this for myself too, because I need this reminder something terrible. I'm fearful and worry about what others think far too often, but I try to remember that just like those flip flops at the nail place, life's flip flops are temporary, too. But something that's not changing? I'm a grown ass woman, and I can do tough things.

This essay and I are part of the Messy, Beautiful Warrior Project — To learn more and join us, CLICK HERE! And to learn about the New York Times Bestselling Memoir Carry On Warrior: The Power of Embracing Your Messy, Beautiful Life, just released in paperback, CLICK HERE!