Shoes

It has been brought to my attention that it has been too long since last I blogged. Fair enough. But the reason is simple: my husband. He has found a new computer-based video game, gag, and so I can never be on the computer any more. Also, I've had some work drama that has left me not a little bit raw, so I haven't been feeling super positive and blog-y. Things got better within a couple of days after a very dark weekend, but this week was also Back to School night, blah blah blah, excuses excuses. Let's just say that I've had a lot going on, when I have free time I'm cleaning our nasty house or staring blankly at the television, or my husband is busy burning a hole in the keyboard with his sweaty, nerdy hands. And this is just what happens while Ben is asleep, during my usual writing time. His awake time is even more insane. But right now he's watching Toy Story and Matt is playing with his guitar, so I have a few minutes to tell you about what happens when your toddler is asked to be in a wedding.

Disclaimer: I love that Ben will be in a wedding. I'm a little nervous about what he might actually opt to do rather than or during the walking down the aisle part. I'm picturing him running down the aisle screaming "mommy" and looking for me, refusing to do it, making me do it with him, or crawling down the aisle roaring like a dinosaur. Whatever he chooses will a) mortify me, and b) crack me (and probably everyone else) up. Jon and Rachel, we love you, and we are so grateful and honored that you want Ben to be a part of your big day. That said, it has inspired not a little bit of drama in our lives.

We just found out two weeks ago that he was going to be in it and what he needed to wear. The wedding is next weekend. So we spent the better part of that weekend hunting down dress shoes, a white shirt, black slacks, and a black tie (are you picturing him wearing this? I could cry it's so dang cute). The dress shoes and white shirt were easy enough. But believe it or not, 2T black slacks and a black toddler tie are not that easy to find. In Orange County, home to materialism that is so rampant that there is a retail store on every corner. Sure, had we gone into Bloomingdale's or Baby Gucci we would have had no problems. Except that a) I am a teacher. I haven't been paid since June. Money's tight at the end of every September, and b) there is no Baby Gucci. I've been to fancy stores before (like Bloomindales--because for people like me those stores are pretty fancy) and I rarely see either maternity clothes or kids clothes. I'm thinking rich people pay other people to give birth to and raise their children for them. Anyway, even if there was a Baby Gucci we would never have been able to afford it. And even if we could, I'm not going to spend $100 on 2T slacks that will be covered in dirt and cake and wedding food sauce before he even starts down the aisle and never be worn again. So we bought a cheap white shirt from H&M and a complete pants-shirt-tie-vest set from Ross because it was the only pair of 2T dress pants in the county after carting Ben around every store in every mall for three hours. Needless to say, this was not his favorite day. Even though we started off at the farm to try to compensate (more about the farm another time). We knew we'd be able to find dress shoes, and after two days of shopping we a) didn't have the energy to look and b) were out of money. So we'd wait until Matt got paid to find the tie and the shoes.

I went to the mall with my friend later in the week and I actually found dress shoes on sale for cheaper than the two other pairs I had found at two other stores AND a black toddler clip-on tie. I had enough dough for the tie, even though it meant I couldn't buy lunch or anything else for the rest of the week. But it was worth it because I was so filled with the glory of triumph that I couldn't leave the store without the tie (and it was actually a lot cheaper than I thought it would be). But I couldn't get the shoes. An added bonus: they had Chuck Taylors on sale as well. It just so happens that Ben's feet have outgrown his tennis shoes, but since it's been hot all summer we haven't gotten new ones. He hates the fake Chucks from Payless, and the ones that I found were actually cheaper than the fakies. Score! Matt was going to get paid soon, and they would still be on sale then, so I left the shoes.

Last night I went back to the mall with  Ben to get the shoes. I have to bring him with me to buy shoes because his feet are a different size every day, and he doesn't wear the same size in every shoe. Why can't that be standardized? I have the same problem with jeans for myself. I have different self-esteem based on the brand of jeans that I'm wearing at any given moment because they're all different sizes.

Anyhow, Fridays Matt works late so Ben and I have a date. So I took Ben to dinner at the Rainforest Cafe for the first time. I kinda hate that place, but he LOVED it. He talked all night long about how he had a "fun dinner with the animals." After dinner we went to Sears to try on shoes. Ben was very excited about this. For some reason he loves shoe shopping. I think it's because of all the boxes. While I'm scrambling to find his size, within 30 seconds he's dismantled the entire girls' shoe section. The shoes are scattered everywhere and he's lining up the boxes. It happens every time. Last night was no exception. I'm trying to move quickly, finding his size. The dress shoes (Ben calls them boots) were fast, but the Chucks were a different story. The high tops were mixed in with the low tops, the sizes were a jumble, and in the 60 seconds it took me to find his style and size he'd rearranged the entire kids section and was currently showing his favorite pair to some people two aisles over. I dragged him back to the bench, tried on the 7s (his supposed size), and they were huge. Back to the pile for me, back to the set-up for him. 60 seconds later he'd created his very own Toy Story/Dora shoe display, with a couple of sparkly flats thrown in. This went on and on. I frantically look for a shoe, he runs off and plays show-and-tell with some very amused shoe shoppers. Finally I find the right size and style of both shoes. We went to the counter to make our purchase. He put the boxes on the counter then started to reorganize the shopping baskets. Then he took his new box of shoes, put them in one of the baskets, and headed for the door. While the sales ladies giggled, I chased him down (he's getting very fast), commended him on his excellent idea, but told him we weren't allowed to take the baskets. Eventually we got the two boxes of shoes in the bag and headed in the right direction (after a few false starts). This took us past the lingerie section, which he gleefully skipped through, fanning his hand through the sexy panties and nighties.

BUT WE  HAVE SHOES.