Do they have a support group for this?

So I think I have a problem, a shoe problem almost an addiction. Let's start at the beginning, shall we?

Before Brooks was a he, he was Cletus the genderless (to us) fetus. I always said that if I had a girl that I would dress her very gender neutral until she had an opinion on her clothes. Then I had a boy and had to buy clothes and shoes for him. I again said I didn't want color to really play into his wardrobe, which is pretty expensive for a newborn. Totally doable, but pricey. Then he became a toddler and the cut and the look of the clothes are more boyish no matter what the color. Two weeks ago at the library he was in a red and white striped romper and sandals and was called a girl by almost everyone. I don't care, really I don't. What I do care about are his shoes.

The boy has some shoes, and right now my favorite shoes are by a company out of Austria called Superfit. Through hand me downs and a gift he currently owns 3 pairs of their shoes and they are BEYOND awesome. They stay on his foot, have a nice supportive but flexible sole and come up a little on his ankle to give this new walker a little extra support. So when Brooks "needed" (I use that word very loosly since he currently has 5 pair in rotation) a pair of black shoes I went straight to them. It took me FOREVER to figure out the brand name, but that was my own damn fault. Once I got it though I was hot on their trail.

I looked all over the US and Canada for a dealer or distributor, none. OK, the website was coming up a little wonky so I emailed the company. I was told they didn't have any dealers or online sources over here, but they are all over Europe. SCORE!!! I have friends, including Brooks' god-father in Europe. I find the pair I'm looking for and then find the shop near my friend's house. This is all working out way too well, He's visiting this weekend for a wedding he can just bring them and then I don't have to pay shipping, this is Brilliant.

Apparently shops in Paris don't usually have websites, I'm not sure if this is commonplace in all of Europe, but that's how it is there. I track down the shop's number, look up a few vocabulary words to refresh my French and dial their number. The shop keeper was lovely, I told him I lived in the US and spoke a little French and that I could understand if he spoke slowly, which he did, not like I'm hard of hearing slowly, but like I don't really speak your language and I'm getting every third word kind of slowly. His shop carries, the brand, style and size for Brooks. Done and done. Email all the specifics to the friend and he will pick them up on Sunday.

Sunday rolls around and I get a call from my friend, the shoes which are 12,95€ on Amazon France are 60€ at the shop, that's around $80. That's way to steep for baby shoes, unless they are dipped in gold, but then they would be too heavy, so it's a lose lose. I tell him never mind and decide to order them from Amazon France. They won't ship to my house, but obviously they ship to my friend's. Order placed 15 minutes later, easy peasy. Until I wake up the next morning and there are two emails from Amazon France saying that the shoes are on back order and will be delayed by 4 days. This will not work at all, since that has them arriving right in the middle of my friend's visit to the US.

So back on the hunt for black shoes for my son that aren't sneakers, have a sole, but a flexible one, don't cost $80, stay on his foot and don't look stupid. He may not be wearing anything that doesn't coordinate with his brown shoe collection, until his god-father comes home for Christmas and brings the kid shoes.

In-betweensy

What do you call your child when they are no longer technically an infant, but not into full toddler-dom? He's over a year, which qualifies him as a toddler, but he's still crawling like an infant, he's inbetween. What do you call him an todfant? Indler? Come up with a new word? But what word best describes a little dude/ette who isn't running around like a maniac but crawling around and getting into everything, the sweetest most adorable pain in the ass ever (I don't think this goes away).

It's the inbetweens that kill me. Right after he started rolling over and being less of a lump around 4 months, I was very cautious around him with the lump-esque babies. Now I have to be careful with him around other infants, ones that are mobile, but aren't running like him, or when he's around toddlers and older kids where he needs to be protected. Does this cycle ever end?

I feel like when he's 4 he can play with 8 year olds, he won't be at the same place emotionally or physically, but at least he'll be stretched by them in both areas. When's he's 8, he'll be able to play with 4 year olds, because he's going to be a very careful, thoughtful and conscientious, and think through everything before he acts. This happens right, because I care and because I put everything on the interweb, right?

I deserve Hazard Pay

It happened to my Dad last January, and me yesterday. We pulled our boob muscle, a.k.a. pectoral or pectoralis major which majorly sucks. My dad thought he was having a heart attack when he had his, now I know what it feels like, and it's awful. Why is this blog worthy? Because of the nature in which this injury occurred, reaching behind us to attend to Brooks while in the car.

Unfortunately this job (nor my father's as grand-parent) comes with workman's comp or hazard pay. We're going to have to remember this when it's time to renegotiate our contracts.

Major Changes

Three weeks ago tomorrow our sweet Geraldine went to the big dog park in the sky. She was 15 and her health and quality of life had seriously deteriorated over the past year. She could no longer go down the stairs in the house, which meant she was relegated to the first floor. She also was getting sick at least once a week. There was a whole laundry list of issues some worse than others.

Neither John nor I had ever had to do this before. I drove down to his parent's house and his dad met me there. I dropped her off, kissed her good bye and left. He waited and brought her back to his house and buried her next to his dog and cat that had passed the year before. So we'll always be able to visit her, but I miss our sweet Jellybean.

The following week my parents met us in Annapolis for my birthday weekend, and to pick up Nanette. After getting back from the beach Nanette, bite Brooks and then bit me. If you know Nanette you know that she is "touched", she suffers from severe anxiety. Her anxiety had gotten so bad that we could up her meds one more level and that was it. My parents have been asking for her to come and stay with them for a while, and it just seemed like the right time. We are desperately hoping that our Princess will come home next fall, but I'm having my doubts.

She is living the sweet dog life. She goes grape picking with my dad, out to breakfast with him each morning, chinquapin hunting, sleeping at night in their room or lounging on the back of the couch. She might decide that she wants to stay at summer camp and not come back to boarding school. We are thrilled that our Princess is thriving, it's all we ever wanted.

So, in two weeks we went from 3 dogs, a cat and a baby, to 1 dog, a cat and a baby, it's still nutso here.

The Bitch that is Karma

You know how you pop by a friend’s house and it’s not spot on clean and it makes you feel like you’re a not a total failure. Then when you’re leaving your friend says, “oh would like a homemade banana muffin”, the equal playing field just got squashed, you totally just got trumped. Then the friend says, “oh and they don’t have sugar, but they do have dairy, is that OK for him?” Translation; “I know you feed your son those organic pouches, he must want something homemade.” This started out as a seemingly innocent comment, right? Then you remember that you invited this same friend like 4 times out to eat forgetting during each invitation that this friend was on an elimination diet and only eating green beans that month, and all she’s doing is sharing the fruits of her labor and love. I’m such a jack ass.

Before realizing my jack assiness I came home and made a bunch of homemade things, biscuits with broccoli and tomatoes and a little cheese, applesauce, and mixed veggies. I’m going a thousand miles a minute in the kitchen before I realize that I’m competing with my friend. She has no idea that this is going on though. It was all subconscious. Why do we do this, especially women, especially with another woman that I consider a close friend.

I slowed down and cleaned up my kitchen, competing and comparing myself the whole time to Zoila, I’m her biggest fan. Just then I caught a waft of the apples and cinnamon and was able to stop and smell the fruits of MY labors. I took a deep breath, slowed and sat down. My back was barking at me like a mad dog. I played a round of Angry Birds and collected myself. A few minutes later the oven beeped that the muffins were done, I took them out and put them in the fridge and went to bed.

Guess who didn’t like my muffins OR applesauce and ate another of my friend’s muffins? Can you say karma boys and girls?

Make sure things are multi-purpose

One thing I have learned in my 13 months of parenting is try and find as many uses for everything your child needs as possible. They out grow everything so quickly that the more uses it has the more valuable it is to you. Take for example Brooks' new potty. (Yes, we've decided to call it a potty since so many others do and when it is crunch time we don't want there to be confusion.)

First of all, I got him the potty because he has shown some interest in toilet learning, well at least interest in the toilet. We got one and we will place him on it daily just to show him how to use it. Well I guess Brooks has other ideas for the use of his toilet right now.....


step stool

toy carrier, yup his blocks are in there

and then he sat on it on his own volition