Okay so it starts early. I mean really early. I was born with the 'i need shoes' gene. I don't need expensive shoes, but I do need alot of them. There are different colors of black, different styles etc. I could come home with 4 pairs of shoes all the 'same' color. *now we know they are not the same color, but my husband 'thinks' that black, is black, is black. Oh' on the contray. I correct him. You can get shiny black, flat black, dull black, worn black, scuff free black, black/gray etc. He walks away when I start with this nonsense.
And with alot of shoes, you get alot of foot issues. Because I have been known to cram my foot into the narrow ends of the shoes, place ban-aids along the side of my toes (just in case), and wear shoes around my house for hours 'breaking them in' prior to actually attempting to wear them for an event.
By all means crazy,I know. I have worn some strappy number that would have my piggy's bleeding and swallow by the end of the night - all for the sake of looking good.
I am getting a bit more practical in my old age. I am over 30 for god's sake. I have started putting inserts in my pretty little shoes, and cutting down on the heal size and making sure my foot actually fits in the shoe rather than acting like Cinderella's ugly step sister and shove my foot into a glass slipper two sizes two small. I am trying to keep my foot from taking on that strange curve that seems to happen when people wear shoes too small for them. I am on a be nice to my feet kick, because I will probably need them get me through the next 20 years or so. Here is my downfall, I hate tennis shoes. I am not a keds person. God bless you, if you are. Me, um....not so much.
So, I cannot wonder where my daughter gets it from. Last night she insisted on wearing her red strappy shoes to her brothers 2 hour football practice. I tried to get her to put on her socks and sneakers like a normal kids. She refused. She luv's her pretty red shoes. She felt so pretty in them that she was twirling out the door. Well, those pretty red shoes, turned in to the devil an hour into practice. Those pretty little shoes rubbed the back of her heels raw, and left raw spots on the side of her foot. *Aww my pretties you must go in the trash. Because you SUCK. Now since i am the mom, I did pack her a second pair of shoes and socks. I expected her to want to change shoes.
I did not expect her foot to almost fall off prior to her making her decision to remove the pretty red shoes. I did not expect her to act as if her legs were broken and she could not walk, I did not expect her to wail loudly for the second hour because her heels hurt. I should probably mention that she got in the bath and howled like a stripper who's john forgot to pay her. Plus she laid in the tub with her feet lifted out of the water. *oh, the drama. Still refusing to walk, I carried her to the couch where I got her dressed and attempted to put her to bed. Well, being in bed would require that your feet be down and under the covers. No, not tonight the feet went up on the wall, so as not to touch the bed. And the crying continued. *dear heavens I am going to slit my wrist.
8 hour later...................................
I get her up this morning, and she STILL cannot walk. The damn kid did not forget about her feet, they were still the topic of crying and wailing this morning. So, as a matter of sanity, I am throwing away all shoes that are not comfortable. Gone are the pretty little things, and they will be replaced with nurses shoes or croc's (ha!!). Not really. I get to keep my shoes, but her red shoes will be burned out back as I as drink a toast to their demise. They have been the angst of my existence for the last 24 hours.
So as I stated it earlier, it starts early. They reel us in with the pretty colors, the shiny straps, and the glitter. And my two year old was enthralled, basically in love. It has all ended so bitterly.