This sums it up so accurately

Really, I don't think anything could be more accurate.

Have you ever had one of those days?

I'm sure you have. Everybody does. Or at least everybody should, 'cause that would just make things seem more fair.

There were lots of appropriate titles for this post. Including, but not limited to:

*I always feared the walk to the front of the room, turns out it's the walk to the back I should have been afraid of.

*I'm changing my Halloween costume. Now I'm going to be Humpty Dumpty.

*It's nice to have friends who help you up when you're down. Literally.

*And great shall be the fall thereof.

Catching on yet?

Yesterday was one of those mornings. Sadly a disproportionate amount of "those mornings" happen on Sunday at our house since church starts at 9 and we have seven children. Do the math.

Aaron was also on call this weekend so he was up early helping some person somewhere with technical issues, thus he wasn't even available to help get the herd wrangled up and ready to go.

I was totally strung out.

We are always early to church. ALWAYS. If it's 8:50 and we are not in our seats, we're late. Yep, some of those people. Typically we try to leave at 8:40, so that we have plenty of time for the loading/unloading of people, the last minute "I have to go potty!" calls, and anything else that tends to pop up.

Not so yesterday.

Like I said, one of those days.

It was 8:57 and we were finally walking in to the chapel. So not good. We usually sit up in the front. 3 pews back to be exact. Occasionally we're a little slower than normal and we are a few rows further back. No biggie. It's better than the folding chairs in the overflow of the chapel. Trust me.

In effort to get the herd quickly to some seats, Lincoln slipped away. Aaron was situating the older kids and I noticed Lincoln making a beeline to the front of the chapel where we normally sit. Realizing that I'm going to have to be the one to get him, I scoot myself as quickly as possible to catch him before the meeting actually starts. Which is tricky since as I was heading up to get Lincoln, the Bishop had stood and was making his way to the pulpit to start.

I finally caught up with Lincoln and turned to take him to the back where we were sitting.

Which would have been fine. Normally.

But as I was carrying Charlotte, had the diaper bag hanging off that same arm, and Lincoln with the other arm, trying quickly to get to the back in my pencil skirt that allows steps no more than roughly 12 inches apart, any trace of grace that may have previously resided in my body (and there wasn't much to begin with), fled quickly.

Yes people, there in the middle of the chapel, shortly after everyone had just quieted themselves down for church to start, I tripped. and fell. and went sprawling out in the aisle.

The Bishop had a bird's eye view of the whole thing from the pulpit. Lucky guy.

That half of a second when I knew I was going down lasted an eternity in my mind. But thankfully the rest of it went very quickly, and before I even knew what was happening there were three suits on me picking me up. Yes, I didn't even stand up by myself after my little spectacle.

The gasp from the left half of the chapel was lovely.

But then, if that wasn't enough, I realized I still needed to get Lincoln back to Aaron and the rest of the family and I needed to do it quickly so I could step out to collect myself. I pointed out where the family was, gently pushed Lincoln that direction and stepped out into the foyer.

It wasn't until a few minutes later when Aaron came out to find me that I realized that Lincoln hadn't been paying attention.

So not only had I tripped and fallen on top of my two youngest children, I then had left my 3yr old standing there alone at the back of the chapel. Nice. Mom of the year award here I come.

Thankfully a friend who saw the whole thing went and got Lincoln and took him back to the rest of the family and informed Aaron of what had happened.

He missed the whole thing.

Aside from a carpet burn on my knee (wool skirt + nylons + church carpet = bad), and a serious bruise to my pride, all was well.

And it did make me feel a little better when Tiffany told me "Of all the people at church who could have tripped and fallen, I'm SO glad it was you!" Uh, thanks. I think. Thankfully she elaborated and told me that it was good to see someone who normally seems so put together and polished and on top of things (uh-someone please find out what Tiffany has been drinking!) take a spill.

So I suppose that the happy ending was that I got to spend a few minutes living in the fantasy realm of thinking that some people are easily fooled.

(But then Tiffany stopped by my house a little later to drop something off. And she saw what the house looked like. Hmm. Oh well, at least she used to be fooled.)

So I'm hoping that this was sufficient humbling for me and that I will get a few more good years under my belt until my next episode of complete public humiliation.

'Cause it was a nice 15 years since I last took a spill down a set of metal bleachers at the end of my older brother's baseball game in front of his cute friends that were on his team.

And 13 years since I fell off a log while hiking on my first date with my husband-right after having talked about competing on a gymnastic team (on beam of course).

And it's been.....well, I'll not elaborate any further.

Let's just say I'm thinking I will not go to my grave being known for my ability to move gracefully.