My attempt to find balance with the sweets, and the sours, of life.
Monday, August 17, 2009
Keep Tight In Those Shoes
Why do all my roads lead to shoes these days?
So, as you know, I took my son for school shoes the other day.
As if that weren't enough, my daughter, too, needs new shoes for school. Two pair. One pair of all-white gym shoes, and one pair of black/white saddle shoes for non-gym days. sigh
After taking my son, you'd think I'm properly primed and ready -- not. My daughter is the complete opposite of my son. My son says nothing. My daughter? Every pair of shoes "hurt." She systematically rejects every pair of shoes I put on her IF I am to believe her observations as reported. If said shoes are bright and sparkly, however, she'll jam her feet into them like Cinderella's evil step-sister and swear they feel "great." So, again, with her, I'm on my own.
So, we get there. The tension is already palpable because of the predictable tone and nature of shoe outings with my daughter. Things are going as I have previously described. I'm doing the "wiggle your toe" thing and all. I'm getting frustrated; my daughter is getting more and more unhelpful. I'm about to call the whole thing off and head to the store next door for coffee and paper towels when . . . the store telephone rings. It's someone looking for our shoes. In our size! I keep the shoes I was about to rip off my daughter on a bit longer. Yes, they actually are looking for these exact shoes in this exact size! And, according to the store manager, these are the last pair. Gah!
Suddenly, I am channeling Glinda-the-Good-Witch, "Hold tight in those shoes! Their powers must be very special or she would not want them so badly." Amazingly, I sprout new patience and implore my daughter to walk in them one more time. I decide to believe her when she says the shoes hurt around the opening. I tied them too tight. Yes, that's it! Let's not quibble. Without nary another size 13 black/white saddle shoe left in the city, who needs to get all moralistic? I loosen the laces and re-tie. She is finally forced to admit . . . they fit. So I guess they do. Right? Right.
“Years ago my mother used to say to me, she'd say, ‘In this world, Elwood, you must be...’ - she always called me Elwood - ‘...in this world, Elwood, you must be oh so smart or oh so pleasant.’ Well, for years I was smart. I recommend pleasant. You may quote me.”~Elwood P. Dowd in Harvey
I am a stay-at-home mom who is coming to grips with the fact that my children are growing up, and that is bitter sweet. I have several pets who understand me including a couple dogs, some beautiful pigeons (yes, pigeons), some chickens who boss me around, and a mourning dove who I believe is God's little whisper to me from heaven. I was a lawyer before I got really serious and became a mom. I love to knit, write, cook, and to take good care of my family. We struggle with my daughter's Reactive Attachment Disorder, and hold hands very tightly sometimes while we withstand the high tide of her challenges. Through it all, I am blessed to have a husband who is the corner piece to my puzzle.