So This Is Motherhood...

I just spend two hours at the shoe store. Two hours and $119. One one pair of shoes.

Before we go getting all excited, they're black lace-up Stride Rites. For the six-year-old. For school. My feet are clad in the same $19 LL Bean flip-flops that have housed them all summer. And the $119 wiped out my J.Jill jeans fund for the fall (shut up, they fit me really well).

The boy wears orthotics, you see. To keep his feet straight and his knees from physically banging into each other when he walks. We got a pair about a month ago for the first time, and I can't tell you what a difference it's made in his ability to keep up with other kids his age. His self-esteem has skyrocketed. It's been good.

But he can't wear his tennis shoes to school. He has to wear black or brown dress shoes. And he wears an XW to begin with--finding a pair that'll house his elephant feet and plastic orthotics is a bit of a challenge, to put it mildly.

So the two hours was because the only person who can do this is Ed, who owns the shoe store. But this is common knowledge. And everyone in the general D.C. area whose kid has funny feet goes to Ed...which means a very long wait, especially four weeks before school starts. Thankfully, the shoe store has a train table and the wait was bearable.

But when Ed said, "You know, he can just move the orthotics from one shoe to another," I shook my head. I remember all too well what it was like to be picked on in grade school because something--anything--was different. Kids are just mean, and I don't care what school they attend, they tease. Mercilessly. The thought of all of the other first graders bouncing around in their tennis shoes waiting for gym class to start while my kid sits on the floor struggling to move plastic devices from one shoe to another was enough to make me almost cry right there in the shoe store. Nope. He's getting two pairs of orthotics--one for each pair of shoes. No delay, no big whoop, and I hope, no teasing.

So that's the $119. Shoes + a second pair of orthotics.

And no jeans for me this year. Which, really, I'm OK with. Given the circumstances. :)