Daily Archives: May 20, 2014

Getting Back on My Feet

I wrote a post a little while back called Shoe Porn.  That post got a lot of “likes’.  I’m guessing there are many foot fetish people and just plain porn lovers out there, so they might have been disappointed after reading my entry.  That’s ok, I got some traffic, and that’s always a good thing.

No, my issue is more about wearing the shoes I love.  ImageJust look at those babies.  Beautiful, towering accessories for your feet.  Shoes do more than just cover your piggies and guard you from the elements.  Shoes decide your day.

How am I feeling?  Do I need a “pick me up”? I know, I’ll put on my heels….

After 5 recent surgeries to my pigits (piggie digits) I am not able to put those lil suckers anywhere near my hooves.  You’ve heard of your “dogs barking?”  When I get anywhere near one of these beauties, I’ve actually overheard my dogs, aka pigits, growl.  Yep, evil, low down depths of your sole (ha ha) growling.  I try to fight them off, but they are relentless.  They will fight to the death.  It appears my days of taking a walk on the wild side are dwindling.  I’ve tip toed around the issue long enough. 

It’s a death really.  I mourn the wonderful days when I towered about the “little people”, able to trot up stairs in my glorious stilts, gliding across any sub terrain with the greatest of ease.  You know, heels actually do your legs a lot of good.  Scaling a flight of steps builds those quads, and mine used to be pretty solid.  Used to be 3 years ago.

Fast forward to today.  Image  My shoe NOT of choice.  Easy Spirits, babeeeee. Yeah.

I can still run up the steps, still cruise through all kinds of rough road.  But sadly, not with the grace and flair that I’m used to.

I flat foot it around this town putting one foot in front of the other like nobody’s business.  I put a smile on my face while slowly dying a fate worse than death inside.  I make it sound traumatic and short of bordering pathetic because it is for me. 

Yes, I have to listen to the naysayers, the “don’t you feel better in flats” little annoying comments from friends and family.  I put up with it, but inside I die a slow stiletto death. 

I’m hopeful, like in most aspects of my life.  I hold on to that small glimmer of hope that one day I will again be able to slip my mangled, gimp feet into a beautiful pair of platform pumps and feel the earth rise to meet me.  Because probably for the first time in my heel walking life, the earth rising to meet me will mean a direct face planting, resembling nothing short of a clown’s circus act at a second rate carnival.  It won’t be pretty, that’s for sure.  But it’ll be due to the fact that I’m back on my skyscraper loving foot gear once again and I’ll be ready to take on the day with a renewed sense of accomplishment and skill. 

Who wants to be the first to sign the cast?





Being a Mom

There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t think about being a mom.  I must admit that I didn’t take it as seriously as I do now.  (Sorry Shawn) Early in my “motherhood”, I was trying to learn this new responsibility and everything that THAT included.  I’m not going to go into the things that I could “no longer” do.  That’s not what this blog post is about.  I want to write about the actual act of being a mom.

Being the ripe ole age of 50, I’m lucky enough to get the opportunity to look back on my life as a mom and see where I went wrong and what I did right.  Now that’s obviously my interpretation, and if you talk to my kids, they might have a different take on it, and that’s fine.
Interpretation does take on many faces.  This face is mine…


I’m sorry, I think that picture is hilarious, as are some of my “mom” moments.

I think it’s difficult to actually “feel” like a mom until you’re able to enjoy the fruits of your labor. I get to see that in two of my three fruits.  Ha ha.  Couldn’t pass that one up either…

When your kids reach a certain age, and believe me, that age is different for each child, they start making you feel proud about the way they’ve turned out.  It’s like a work project that started so many years ago, you barely remember when it first began, but you’re finally getting to see it come to fruition.

I don’t necessarily gauge my children’s adult worth on any certain life event or lack of event.  I measure it on the kind of person they’ve turned out to be.  How they’ve chosen to live their life and how they treat others and themselves.

I’m pretty damn proud.  I get to sit back and watch the direction they’re taking their lives and see their hopes and dreams become reality.  That makes me very proud.  I like to say I live vicariously through my children.  I didn’t have the gumption to do a lot of things that it turns out I’m pretty sorry for at this time in my life, but I’m so glad that my kids are taking chances and seeing a future filled with opportunity and hope.  I get to hear about plans for the future and nothing makes me more proud of being a mom than that.

My little fruit is well on his way to being a good person, but he still has a long way to go.  I don’t know how long it will take, but I’m confident that he will become just as awesome as the other two are.

My work is far from done, but I’m happy just being a mom.