I know we just came through Mother's Day and we have all sorts of warm fuzzy feelings about our positions as moms. I do have one thing that gets on my nerves--MY KIDS STEP ON MY FEET!! Am I the only mom out there that always seems to get her feet stepped on? I have tried to figure out why. I am very much of a fix-it type person. I have looked at the size of my feet. I don't think this is the problem. I am 5'6" tall and my size 8 shoes seem an appropriate foundation for my frame. I can't come up with the reason their feet seem to keep coming in contact with mine.
I know there is probably a mom out there right now that is saying with a tissue in hand. "My kids are gone and oh, how I wish they would come back and step on my feet once again." Well, I am not there yet and I am trying to understand how I could miss this part of motherhood. Please tell me they don't do this when the are wearing a size 12 in men's shoes. Don't misunderstand me--I love my kids dearly, but this hurts!! It wasn't a real issue when the kids were small and they had those cute little soft shoes. That has all changed. I usually wear sandals or flip-flops and when you put a heeley on top of my bare foot, it is not a song of praise that comes out of my mouth.
It seems to be a real problem in church. We are all sitting there as a cute little family and someone needs to go to the bathroom or change places to get closer to the crayon box. There are a few inches between my knees and the pew in front of me. Invariably this a guarantee that my feet will be stepped on. When this happens, there are several things that immediately take place.I want to scream, "You just stepped on my foot!" Since that would not be the brightest idea during the sermon, I silently grab their arm to lift up on the kid to ease the pressure that is building a bruise on my poor foot. Guess what happens next..the kid thinks I have hurt them by grabbing their arm..now they start crying. I try to keep them quiet so everyone around me doesn't think I have hurt my kid. What I am tempted to do is raise my foot up in the air and show the crowd that I am the one hurt--see the boo-boo on the top of my foot. I know this would not be a good idea, so I suffer in silence and try to worship.
One thing that complicates this problem is that I naturally have flat feet. I really have to shop to find shoes that fit me. Most of the sandals I try on look hilarious--my foot slides right on through. Since I refuse to wear shoes that have my toes hanging 2 inches off the toe with 2 inches of free space in the back, I pick my sandals carefully. I told my kids a few days ago that if they keep stepping on my feet, I would not be able to wear shoes. I thought I saw a gleam in my husband's eyes as he looked at my full shoerack. I went on to tell them that if I could not wear shoes, they could just buy me a pair of envelopes to waddle around in like a duck. For some reason, they laughed.
Well, I still refuse to wear steel-toed combat boots to church, so I will have to deal with my problem. It has helped me just sharing with you, my blogger friends. It was good to let you know what was on my heart--I mean my feet. Take care and watch out for those kids in roller blades.