"My cousin so generously donated a half dozen pair of hand-me-down shoes to Maizen. It couldn't have come at a better time because for the entire summer, Maizen has been refusing to wear anything but her now slightly too small flip-flops. She hates socks and will cry and writhe around the floor if I manage to get some on her feet. Actual shoe-wearing turns her into a redheaded, whinier Goldilocks--too scratchy, too pointy, too black. She rips them off her feet before we can walk out the door. So we get out the silly flip-flops no matter the weather. We have been really really late because of these shoe melt-downs. (I should say here in her defense, that her feet have grown this summer, and I'm sure the shoes are A BIT uncomfortable.) Then the other day we were at Target and she kicked off her flip-flops somewhere without my realizing it. When I did see her bare feet, we retraced our steps. No flips. I thought of asking lost and found, but then I remembered that I prefer to never see those stinking flip-flops again. I had been worried that she'd be wearing them into November as the snow starts to fly. Needless to say, I carried my little heartbroken Drizella out of the store. And when I present her with real shoes and she says "no, where are my flips!" I remind her SHE lost them. Why didn't I think to "lose" them earlier?
Back to the point, Allie and Emmie's hand me down shoes couldn't have come at a better time. I casually lined them up in front of the closet doors. And sure enough, I came home yesterday and Maizen was wearing a pair around the house--we don't wear our shoes in the house, and yet it was such a welcoming sight. So when we prepared to walk to the park she put on some new pants from Grandma and gladly put on some SOCKS and SHOES, and we headed out--zero whining, no crying! On the walk, as usual, she kept trailing behind. I peppered our march with some pep talk "let's hurry and get there so there's more time to play!" And ten minutes later she strolling way behind (distracted easily) and we have another block and a half to go (we live only 4 away). I turn to enlist some less encouraging encouragement ("Maizen, you don't seem like you want to go to the park, should we turn around?"). She says, "watch what Ally and Emmy's shoes can do," and she takes off running in a quick but still Maizen-ly knees bent, feet constantly parallel to the ground sort of way. The jostling causes her pants to shimmy down to her knees. And she abruptly stops, face red. She looks around to see if anyone noticed, and then she starts laughing. I told her she ran so fast she ran right out of her pants. She's so proud. So I guess the lesson here, if there is one, is that it's better to have tight pants and loose shoes."