Now, as a parent with two young children, I've been there, done that - learnt my lesson, so-to-speak - with regards to how unpractical shoes for babies are. I mean, don't get me wrong, little shoes look cute, but (in my opinion) shoes for babies – babies who aren't yet walking – are almost a complete waste of money. I did say almost, though. After all, one practical use for baby shoes is, they can be relatively effective at preventing your little one from behaving like my clever little man, who has formed the rather annoying habit of being able to pull his socks off (and usually lose at least one of them) while being pushed around in his pusher when I’m busy rushing around, out and about, trying to get things done (things like grocery shopping and other less-than-exciting tasks). Needless to say, little man’s sock drawer is crammed full of lonely, single, socks that are sadly, unlikely to ever be reunited with their perfectly-matched partners.
Of course, I didn't realise that shoes for babies were almost a complete waste of money a few years back when I was having my first child (my little madam). I was, naturally, thrilled to bits when I received, as a gift, a tiny pair of baby Nikes - I’d never seen anything so small and sweet in my whole entire life - and, I was even more ECSTATIC when my wonderful sister showed up a short while later with a brand-new pair of pink baby Ugg Boots. This, of course, was the beginning of little madam's lovely shoe collection, which I added to, somewhat regularly (at my own expense, of course), quite a bit before she was born. I guess, aside from being a useful way to save her socks from spending the remainder of their lives single and lonely – although, come to think of it she wasn’t nearly as determined to force her socks into a life of loneliness as little man has been - it wasn't until she was walking, at fourteen months of age, that shoes really became practical and necessary. And, to my dismay I realised, at that point, that all her sweet little tiny baby shoes that she'd never had a chance to wear – even the tiny baby Nikes – were now all far too small. For the benefit of my sister, though, I’m pleased to say that the Ugg Boots did, in fact, manage to get worn once. And, of course, they looked as cute on little madam as they did off!
So, as I said, I've learned my lesson and, therefore, I didn't go to the trouble of buying any special little shoes in anticipation for little man's arrival thirteen-and-a-half months ago. I was given, however, a really sweet little pair of Converse One-Stars (the lace-up boot style with the soft sole) and it was while I was getting little man dressed the other day, for a particularly chilly December days outing, that I spotted the little shoes and decided (after being reminded by a good friend that this might be a good way to prevent him from forcing his socks to lead a lonely existence) it was time for little man to give shoes a try.
Now I have to be honest. This wasn't the first time I’d tried to get shoes on little man. I did attempt get a pair of blue, cotton, booty things – these were a gift, too, by the way - on his feet when he was only six-months-old-or-so. And I realised that – even though they were made of really soft cotton, and were more like socks than shoes – getting shoes on a baby isn't easy. It was, seriously, like trying to stuff a horse-hoof into a rubber glove. Especially due to the fact that little man decided it was time to show me how well he could curl his toes; so effective was his toe-curling ability, in fact, that his foot (while I was struggling to try and get it into this small pair of booties) resembled a closed fist ready for a fight.
Perhaps I should have remembered this first attempt when I tried the Converse-One-Stars the other day. Perhaps if I'd remembered this first attempt, I wouldn't have been so shocked, or surprised, by his reaction. But, of course, I'm human, and do forget things. I guess I was feeling pretty determined on this particular day, though, and really wanted to make sure he didn't manage to pull off his socks because it was, as I said, particularly chilly for December (what is going on with the weather, I ask?). So, after dressing little man completely, I began to embark on the task of putting on his shoes. Of course, the feat wasn’t easy and It took quite a bit of stuffing and swearing (don’t worry, I was careful little madam wasn’t within earshot) till I eventually managed the get one of the little lace-ups on. Unfortunately, my excitement over this small achievement was short-lived because, when I finally succeeded...Well! Anyone living remotely nearby, and not extremely hard of hearing, would have (I’m certain) heard the carry-on. First, little man, upon realising that one of his feet was now bound by a strange and foreign object (aka, a shoe), gave me a look of sheer and utter terror. But once the shock wore off, not more than five seconds later, he began to make the most horrible shrieking howling sound; while, of course, doing his best to try to yank the little shoe off. After realising, though, a short while later, that the odd thing covering his foot wasn't going to come off as easily as a sock, he really started to bellow.
I was rather flustered at this point, as the effort of just putting the one shoe on had wore me out somewhat - and I was feeling a bit bad because I really had no intention of causing little man any grief - but I decided (despite little man's desperate pleas, and even a few shouts of "Mummy! Take them off! He doesn't want to wear them!" from his big sister, little madam, who, AMAZINGLY, had heard his cries for help and come to his rescue), to persist and quickly try to put the other shoe on. Thankfully (and rather miraculously, I might add) after a more shouts of protest from little man (and little madam, too...it was quite a scene), and a little more toe-curling and some kicking, as well, both shoes were soon on.
Now I have to admit, apart from feeling flustered (and a little guilty, too, for being the cause of little man's apparent turmoil), I was relieved a short while later as, after a cuddle and a kiss from well-intentioned-mummy, he calmed down completely and was back to being the happy little man that he normally is. Although, it was funny for a while afterwards - actually, until the clever little sod did eventually manage to pull the shoes off in the car not more than an hour later- because, although he seemed to have forgotten the horrendous ordeal, every now and then he'd catch sight of his feet and give me the shock look - the look of terror - again. Poor bugger.
Whoever thought that an innocent thing like a small pair of shoes could cause such a fuss? Wow. Not even I, the unsuspecting parent, could have anticipated such a shocking reaction to a pair of shoes, not to mention the guilt I’ve been left with for causing him so much apparent turmoil. And now that little man is beginning to take a few steps – well, he’s not quite walking, but almost – I can only begin to imagine how difficult and tumultuous the task of getting him used to wearing shoes will be.
Thanks, little man, for making me (once again) realise that I won’t be one of the lucky few in the running for the mother of the year awards, due to the fact that I insisted you wear something as shocking as a little pair of One-Stars. Love you!
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