It's all About the Shoes

May is a crazy month. It is full of end of the school year events and celebrations. In the case of my two daughters, it meant a Spring Concert. Each of my children play instruments and had a singing solo. It was a time to REJOICE! Ok, maybe not so much when my life is so crazy.

One thing about Concerts at school, it means a specific outfit. White shirt, black pants, and black shoes. I swear I saw flyers with a forgiveness on the dark shoes. I acted on this assumption. In my house,(other than me) there are not many shoes. The girls have sneakers and a slip on shoe. That is it! (ok, besides snow boots, which we won't need in Tennessee) Anyway, the dress shoes for concerts are always a problem.

Thankfully, I usually have gifts or hand me down shoes to handle this situation. On this particular day, I had more than one problem. It was warm. Warm or hot means shorts. We don't have BLACK uniform, dressy, skorts, or skirts.

We draw on older stuff, that is perhaps smaller. You must remember my children tend to keep getting taller not bigger anywhere else, allowing them to hold onto clothes for many years. The skirts we wear are passable, but shorter than fingertip length. (unless you are my eldest daughter who insists if she puts her shoulders back it is fine) We get dressed and all seems well. BUT, there is still the matter of SHOES.

I get my coffee and we dig into the shoe tub. My youngest seems happy with white sandals.(I KNOW not black, but I REMEMBER reading it was ok) My eldest finds black sandals that are from the Hand Me Down Chain. I saved them because they were black. They do have heels but oh well, I am desperate. My eldest daughter puts the shoes on, she REALLY likes them.

I look at her for a moment. She has a maturing girl body, a SHORT black skirt, and black heels. I think that if I give her a floppy hat, paint her nails and give her makeup, she could be the Jodie Foster character from "Taxi Driver".

"No Way", I say. "You can have THOSE shoes and navy blue capris OR that skirt and different shoes."

She does not stop to think. "I will go change." she says as she races upstairs (as fast as those heels will allow) She looks much better when I see her next. I breath easier. The school will not think I am a bad parent (at least not for how my child is dressed) and she gets to feel more "grown up". Right now, being more "teen" or "grown up" is how my daughter wants to feel.

I feel like adulthood for her and all the nonsense that comes with it is swirling down on us fast and furious, like a tornado, OR just like this doggone move to Tennessee.