If the shoe fits

No, I'm not going to go on a diatribe about how my little girls are obsessed with shoes -- mine, theirs, their fathers. No, I'm not going to talk about how they are always trying to put my shoes on my feet, on their feet, or are putting on or taking off their own shoes.

What I am going to talk about is today's moms who can wear sexy shoes and nice outfits. I just don't understand what I'm doing wrong to feel uncomfortable, and too dressy when dressed up and caring for my daughters. I mean really caring for them.

Just today, for instance, I had to run like the wind to keep up with them at the playground. I can't imagine trying to climb the big slide not once, but six times in anything but tennis shoes. Do they even call them that now? Or, are they sneakers?

On the way to the playground visions of our last visit -- earlier this week -- came to life. A beautiful mom with her very quiet, very serene, very patient ONE child, pre-school age, sauntered over the foot bridge and slowly made their way to their first piece of equipment, then another, then another. One at a time, they mastered each one. She was a lovely woman, dressed in perfect fall attire. She wasn't overly dressed, but she was definitely dressed well. While going back and forth between one swing and the other, I looked down at my sneakers, khaki pants and t-shirt and thought how disgusting of me to go out looking like this.

But, I couldn't prevent my two girls from jumping off that bridge if I had on my sexy shoes. I even refuse to wear my flip-flops to the playground because I know at any minute I might have to burst into a run. I guess I'm always prepared.

I guess my outer self is just going to have to wait. Just like the housework. The organizing. The packing. The novel.

Everything -- including myself -- is on hold. No fancy shoes for me. I'm busy. Busy climbing ladders to big slides, and picking mulch out of heads of hair.