Shoes

Things that went right today:

1) Three year old stayed dry all night. I think potty training is officially accomplished.

2) Last orthodontist appointment for my 13 year old son. 4 down...5 to go.

3) Got a TON of laundry done...at last clean towels.

I wrote this essay for a church writer's workshop a couple of years ago, but it kind of goes along with the thoughts I am having today so I thought I would cheat and reprint this:

They say that clothes make the man. I guess you could also say that shoes make the woman...or at least, like Cinderella's glass slipper, they can reflect who she is and who she may become. Funny then that most women have so very many shoes. We're complex creatures aren't we? With countless nuances and missions to fill - day to day and year to year. I have worn a lot of different shoes in my life. Each with their own style, and their own purpose.

I came into the world unencumbered...undefined. At some point in time though my mother determined that I needed to have shoes on my feet to provide both support and identity. I wonder if I was like my own children who seem to initially resist the burden of shoes. They try to kick them off and maintain their freedom. But in any case, my mother persevered and before long shoes became an integral part of who I was. There were the first little infant shoes that kept my feet steady as I learned to walk. The ugly orthopedic shoes that fixed my pigeon toe problem. My tennis shoes were part of my daily uniform as the tomboy that I was. I remember that it was uncool for them to ever look new. Whenever I was forced to get a new pair, the first order of business was to take them outside and scuff them up as much as possible. It would have been embarrassing at the time to call attention to myself by having shoes that were too bright white. This caused my mother endless consternation of course, but blending in was of utmost importance. There were the various stages of ice skates...the quality and style improving as I did. These skates helped me gain confidence in myself as I learned a new skill and got used to being watched. In my Dorothy Hamill haircut and the uniforms that my mom made, I dreamed of skating in the Olympics one day. Who knows? I suppose anything is possible. But my parents divorced, and we moved across the state, and the ice skates got put away. But they were soon replaced by other things...roller skates for one. The blue ones that looked like tennis shoes that were on my feet for most of 5th and 6th grade. That was back in the day when all of the kids met at the schoolyard after school and played until the moms called them in for dinner. It would have been unthinkable to stay inside and watch TV. We got skinned knees, and were always dirty, but we sure did have fun.

There were of course the shoes that might have been. It was 7th grade and everyone (seriously everyone...well everyone except me that is) had Mohawks that year. The three inch high wedge heels with straps that were the most wonderful shoes ever created. They could be worn with jeans as well as skirts and I wanted those shoes more than almost anything in the world. My mom thought they were ridiculous. She did not agree that a 12 year old should be wearing high heels. The usual reasons...they were inappropriate for my age and I might break my ankle. And thus began the contest of wills, me begging, my mom holding firm. By the time my mom relented that I was finally old enough for heels Mohawks were out of style, so I never did wear them. I suppose it is time now to forgive her for this injustice. Or maybe not. But I must admit that if my twelve year old daughter wanted three inch heels, I would now find that highly inappropriate. She might after all break her ankle. My mother seems to get smarter the older I get. I love her for always looking out for what was best for me...even if it meant the answer was no.

I got a little older and soon there were dance shoes that I wore all through high school in dance production class. I danced a solo in those shoes (even though I was terrified the shoes kept me on my feet). And the cheerleading shoes, and the flip flops, and the Dr. Scholl's. Suddenly it seemed important to have shoes to match my handbag. There were the beautiful white satin shoes that I wore to the temple to be married to the love of my life. Those were wonderful shoes. And there were the character shoes that helped me play so many roles on stage in theater in college. It is amazing how much I learned about myself by pretending to be other people. I stayed on various stages as often as possible right up until my first positive pregnancy test when I decided I had new lessons to learn.

Before that moment my all time favorite pair of shoes would have to have been my red pumps. I was now old enough to make my own choices so they were three inch heels...cherry red...and they were fabulous. When I put those shoes on I knew I could conquer the world. They were sexy and sassy and heads turned when I walked into a room. I knew I looked good in those shoes so I held my head a little higher and walked with a spring in my step. It is hard to say if the shoes gave me so much confidence or if a confident girl would choose such a shoe. Kind of like the proverbial chicken and egg question. But in any event, I smile when I think of those shoes and of the girl who wore them. She had big hair, big attitude and really big dreams. That girl got straight A's through most of college and had every intention of becoming either a world famous actress or a high powered attorney at a prestigious law firm one day. Or maybe both. She wanted to travel the world. Even more she wanted to change the world. I smile a wistful smile when I think of her. She was something else.

I just glanced down at the shoes I am wearing today. Beat up beige loafers, sturdy and practical. Not very attractive but infinitely useful. Yikes! When did that happen? I guess it started when my first son was born. Suddenly law school did not seem that important anymore, so, I put my husband through instead. Most of my time was now spent crawling around on the floor with my new baby. Practical shoes seemed to make sense. My loafers are my mom shoes. They've seen me through a lot. Second son's birth and a cross country move away from family. Baby number three...a girl! Now it was my turn to be a mom putting on my daughter's shoes. I did not care much what was on my feet by this time but her little pink baby shoes with ruffles on them melted my heart. It doesn't get much more fun than that. Babies four and five each were accompanied by home remodels and moves to bigger homes to accommodate the growing family. With dad traveling most of the time, and doing day care, and making ends meet

I was learning a lot about how much strength I really had. I often felt I would not have enough but then...I would pray hard and find a little more somewhere and go on. Babies 6, 7 and 8 - and by this time my shoe size was up by 1 1/2 sizes...my feet stretched out by pregnancy and weight gain and all of those fun things. My loafers have been on my feet for all of these years and all of these babies. They are not shoes that will gain me any notariety in the world. They are not special, or fashionable, but they are perfect. They are perfect for running up and down the sidelines at soccer games (rain or shine), and for basketball, football, cross country, swimming, and hockey. They are perfect for the hours and hours (and hours) of carpooling. They are perfect for keeping my feet steady while keeping house. The dishes, cleaning, laundry (there really is a lot of laundry) that are the necessary part of this life I have chosen. They are perfect for playing games with my little ones and outings to the zoo, and field trips and grace art. They are perfect for fulfilling the church callings I have held that usually involve some sort of hands on service. They are perfect for hitting the imaginary brake pedal on my side of the car while teaching my son to drive. I know it doesn't really help but it makes me feel better. They are perfect for all of the trivial things I do every day that somehow add up to something important. They are perfect to support my often tired and swollen feet as I carry this new little baby. I wonder who he or she will be and what new dimension they will add to our home. One thing is certain...I have a few more years of sturdy brown loafers ahead. And I am o.k. with that. I am grateful for that. I am truly blessed.

I wonder if red shoe girl would be disappointed if she could see brown loafer woman. Most of what I am doing today would not have seemed too exciting to her. She could not have understood its value at that point in time having never lived it. I never did travel the world, but I have walked miles and miles in discovering who I really am. I never did change the world either I guess. But the whole world has changed for me in ways so wonderful that I never even knew to dream these dreams before. I am grateful to God for guiding my footsteps and bringing me here to this place...to this life I am leading. It is not an easy life, but it is beautiful.

The other great thing about shoes is that at the end of every day we take them off. We spend some time undefined again...just being. And with each new day we have the choice of which shoes to put on. I wonder sometimes what the future holds for me. There will almost certainly be weddings and funerals, missionary farewells and grandchildren....most likely a lot of them. Will I ever wear red pumps again? Probably not, but stranger things have happened so you never know. I do still hope for world travel, and perhaps even missionary service. Whatever life brings though, and whatever shoes I am wearing, my primary goal is to have my feet set firmly on the path that will one day lead me home to my Father in Heaven. And I pray that my family will be traveling with me always. At the end of the day that is really all that matters.

Stripper

Things that went right today:

1) Family night with brownies for dessert

2) Got some new fixtures to improve my master bathroom

3) Shopping for school clothes with my ten year old daughter...time spent just the two of us.

My son has decided to be a stripper. Ok not my 18 year old son thankfully...the baby. No matter what I do he insists on taking his clothes off (yes the diaper too) and running through the house naked. In the past few days I have lost count of how many times I have redressed this boy only to turn around a few minutes later to see him streaking past, laughing as I try to catch him. He finds this game hilarious. Since he is not yet potty trained I am finding it less humerous. But even still it does make me smile a little as I wonder what it would be like to be that free and comfortable with my body. By contrast I spend most of my time trying to keep mine as covered as possible. I am aware of every flaw...too much flab there. Wrinkles showing up there. Feet a little too big. I could go on but let's suffice it to say that my relationship with my body is a bit love/hate. I think this is true for most of us actually...especially women. We beat ourselves up over every tiny little thing that does not compare to the model we saw in the magazine. Never mind that we know technically that the model has been airbrushed and photoshopped and surgically altered. Not to mention that she is probably 17 and has youth on her side. Even still we persist in picking ourselves apart when we look in the mirror. You know what...I think we need to knock it off. No matter what we look like...how tall or short, how skinny or chubby, the color of our skin, eyes or hair, if we are beautiful or plain...our bodies are amazing things. Rather than focus on what is wrong, how about we feel elated with all that is right. I am so grateful today that overall my body is pretty healthy. It is not racked with disease. I can walk, run, jump and play with my family. I have the full range of senses to enjoy. I may not be the most beautiful woman in the world but my babies think I am. Who cares what anyone else thinks anyway? Why avoid a swim suit and miss out on swimming with my kids? Truth be told no one at the pool is really paying any attention to how I look in my suit anyway. They are far too busy worrying over their own imperfections to give much thought to mine. Today I have decided to get over it and love my body for what it is. I don't intend to go as far as the baby and start running through the house naked. So you needn't fear stopping by for a visit. But today when I look in the mirror the face smiling back at me will be a friendly one rather than a critical one. Thanks to the baby for teaching me that lesson. Now where is that boy? I need to get his clothes back on him. Again.

car quotes

Things that went right today:

1) Fun family movie night to go see "Cloudy With A Chance of Meatballs"

2) Got all the utilities set up for the new house next week.

3) TGIF

Things I overheard my children saying in the car on the way to and from the theater tonight (did I really give birth to these people?):

- "It smells like pee in here"

-"Gross, she's wiping her boogers on me...hey remember when you used to wipe them on the wall?"

-"I wish school had naptime"...."It does..it's called Geometry"

-"How long do I have to be nice?" (ok...this was my husband actually)

-"Mom, how did George Washington kill the red coats? With his morning breath...you know because of those nasty wooden teeth!"

-"How do midgets drive a car? booster seats?"

- "Remember that time you wet your pants at Kindergarten?...you should have pretended it was Mountain Dew"

-"I think I have shin splints"

These are just the few I can remember. In spite of the above, today I am grateful for my children for ensuring that life is never boring. sigh

Musketeers

Things that went right today:

1) Walkthrough went well on our new home last night.

2) First day of Autumn...my favorite season.

3) Finally took car to shop to fix the horrible noise it was making and it turned out to be an easy and cheap fix. How often is that the case?

Today is a messy day. For several reasons. One is that we are moving soon so routines are pretty few and far between right now. But it is mostly because of the "three musketeers". That is what we call our youngest three boys ages 1, 3 and 5. They are a dynamic trio for sure and have a knack for creating chaos where ever they go. Remember that old "Peanuts" character Pigpen who always had a swirl of dirt surrounding him at all times? The musketeers are pigpen times three. But instead of the dirt following them around in a neat little cloud like in the cartoon, they seem to leave streams of it behind them making their marks on ceilings and floors and...well everything. And since there are three of them and only one of me I am usually losing the battle against grime, and clutter and various other nasty gooey unidentifiable gross stuff. Their exploits are legendary actually. They have been responsible for floods in the master bathroom that leaked down to the lower level (twice), a feather pillow disaster (you can imagine...we were finding feathers for weeks), and the infamous moon sand incident (as if I didn't know better...why did I buy it??? Seriously.). Something gets broken almost daily (the worst being the time they put a lotion bottle down the toilet...$700) We buy gallons of paint for touchups due to artwork on the walls and have now banned permanent markers from the house...permanantly. The issues we have had with bodily functions are too disgusting to put in print. It is a mystery to me why they insist on taking the diaper OFF while in the crib? Is it a punishment to me for making them go to bed? Perhaps. I have lost count of how many board games we have had to throw away because of scattered pieces. Sometimes even before we have ever had a chance to play them. Today's particular mess is a direct result of the baby learning how to open the refrigerator. For reasons I do not fully comprehend he is particularly drawn to slimy things like eggs and yogurt. You don't realize how much yogurt is actually in one of those little cups until you see it smeared around the house. Today I have decided that for the next little while yogurt is going the way of the sharpie pens. Banished! One might think with all of the destruction they cause that they are not being supervised carefully. I assure you that is not the case. True confession...they are faster than me. My typical day consists of running around after them trying to prevent and/or repair whatever the damage might be that day. They have tricks too. They have learned to divide and conquer since Mom cannot be in three places at once. And they have learned that while Mom is busy cleaning up their current mess they have a window of time free to go and make another one in a new location. Crafty little guys! Some days it can get very frustrating and I find myself daydreaming about miniature straightjackets. Ok not really, but the frustration part is true. What I really day dream about is the day when they are all older and we can walk through the house without stepping in something sticky (my husband insists his only piece of parenting advice as a father of nine is "wear shoes in the house"...oh and the related "buy a carpet cleaner") I dream about how wonderful it will be to be able to buy nicer furniture with no fear of it being spilled on, written on, peed on, thrown up on, or otherwise defiled. I dream about a day when I can have beautiful music wafting through the air instead of the surround sound crying and constant "Mom, Mom, Mom!!!" I dream of being able to finish tasks uninterrupted (I swear I have had to stop at least thirty times so far just while typing this one post). But today on this messy day my reverie was pleasantly paused by a cute little head resting quietly on my knee. He looked up at me with chocolate smudges on his nose and the biggest smile and said "Love you Mom". And it hit me. The problem with the perfect world in my daydream is that is isn't perfect at all. Why? Because my babies will be gone. No messy rooms means no more sounds of my little ones giggling. No more tripping over little shoes in the hallway means no more little feet running in to hug me in the morning. Nicer furniture will indeed be nice but will it feel more like a museum than a home? I will probably not miss diapers I admit, but I will definitely miss pudgy little fingers reaching up to take my hand. And gazing into clear blue eyes that are completely and totally innocent. And watching the joy of discovery on tiny faces. And the faith and trust of a young child who has scraped his knee and runs to Mommy to make it better. The day will come too soon that they no longer believe that I know everything. Nor will they want to spend an hour reading stories with me or cuddling on the couch in a thunderstorm. Will the day come that Santa Claus and The tooth fairy do not come to my house anymore? When my little ones grow up where will the magic come from? Who will tell ridiculous knock knock jokes that make no sense but make me laugh every time? I look forward to grandchildren and have faith that they will keep the wonders of childhood alive in my life even when my kids are grown and have moved away. And I know that at every stage of life there are blessings to be had. I would not keep the musketeers small forever because then I would miss out on getting to know them as adults and watching them grow and learn. But I am thankful this day to have them JUST as they are right this minute. Mischievous and adorable. Silly and sweet. Wild and affectionate. They are happy, playful wonderful children, and I love them with all of my heart. If having them in my life means a messy house than bring it on! It won't last long. And I want to enjoy it while I can. Oh dear...baby just took the chocolate syrup out of the refrigerator. That never ends well. Gotta run! :-)

Big rocks

Things that went right today:

1) spent the day alone with my husband

2) went on a long hike in the Dolly Sods wilderness area of west virginia...beautiful

3) perfect weather, clear blue sky

Hiking through the Dolly Sods today was an amazing experience. I have never been in a place with such a wide variety of terrain and vegetation. Every passing mile it was like we were in a whole new place. One minute we were in thick forest and the next in a field of wild flowers. We saw ferns and snakes and crossed rivers on rock bridges. The leaves were changing colors, the sky was blue and the temperature was perfect. It really was a wonderful day in every way. I enjoyed the chance my husband and I had to talk uninterrupted, and I also enjoyed the times when we were silent. Being out in nature is the perfect time to ponder and I made an observation that taught me a lesson about life I think. Dolly Sods is very rocky. I had to watch my step to make sure I did not stumble over anything. The rocks came in all shapes and sizes and often made the hike treacherous...or at least more difficult. But here is what I noticed. The bigger rocks were obviously the most daunting. They took more effort to climb over. They could trip us up if we weren't watching for them, but at the same time they were large and easy to see. When we hit the big rocks we knew we had obstacles to overcome and had to muster some strength to confront them. BUT...they also tended to be solid. When facing steep hills they provided sturdy footholds. They were useful when crossing areas of heavy mud or streams. Even though they made the journey harder in some ways they also provided stability, tested our strength and created pathways to overcome other obstacles that we faced. The little rocks on the other hand looked far less threatening. You barely noticed they were there, until you tripped on them hidden under the brush that is. On the slopes the little rocks tended to accumulate in groups and could be deceiving. They appeared to be forming a pathway that was safe to walk on, but when you rested your weight on them they would often slide out from underneath you. As the day went on I began to see a pattern. I came to trust the big rocks more. Yes they were harder to climb, but the little rocks made for slippery slopes. At least with the big rocks you could see what you were dealing with and you could trust the outcome more. Taking your chances with the little rocks might save a step or two, but you were also more likely to fall.

I think this principle also can apply to our challenges in life. For today I will focus mainly on the temptations that we face in our character development. We're all different so we have our own personal vices. What might be a problem for one is not for another, but we all have at least one. Some of us may struggle with honesty, some with chastity, some with gluttony or sloth, others with addictions...you get the idea. But whatever our personal struggles may be, life will provide ample temptations for us to be sure. These weaknesses we have need not defeat us however. In fact they can make us stronger if we own them and tackle them head on. Even serious problems once fully recognized and bravely addressed lose much of their power over us. Just like with the big rocks. When we can see something for what it is we have a better chance of overcoming it. We can then move ahead, one tentative step at a time, until we conquer. Facing challenges can teach us a lot about our core selves and instill compassion in us for others as they fight their own battles. The process of overcoming difficulties can strengthen both our resolve and willpower as we realize that WE are more powerful than our vices. We learn to believe in ourselves. Climbing big rocks stretched our muscles and built them up so we were stronger for the next climb. So it is with our challenges, and the big ones that we encounter can help us as we face other temptations later on. Lessons learned from one struggle can be transferred down the road to form a clear course through the next one. The more serious damage to our characters often comes from the smaller things. "Just this once won't hurt right?" "It's only a little lie" "No one will know" "I'll do better tomorrow" We are in the most danger when we are in denial. Or when we linger on the edge of right and wrong. We know that problems are there, but because in grey areas we cannot (or will not) see them clearly, we ignore them until they reach out and grab us one day. Like the little rocks, these "little" character discrepancies tend to accumulate over time. We can be moving along through life with the illusion that all is well and suddenly find ourselves slipping and careening downward wondering what hit us. A pathway built on little rocks cannot be relied on to be sound. A character built on "little" misdeeds can likewise lead to a crash. But when we do fall it is comforting to know that we can always pick ourselves up again, cast our eyes around for some sure foundations and take a new step in the right direction. I am thankful this day for the challenges that life offers us and the opportunities we all have to keep learning and growing each and every day.