A new pair of shoes

I was grumbling.  Grouchy.  A touch irritated.

A new pair of shoes for my girlie wasn’t on my budgetary agenda today.  But after the 2nd failed attempt to repair the soles on her “go-to” pair, I realized it just became my reality.  I say “go-to” pair because, well, it’s her only non-dressy, non-flip flop, non sneaker option.

Sigh.

What started as a grudging replacement of a still perfectly fitting shoe turned into a full-fledged mom moment.  I don’t know about you, but with growth spurts as frequent as the recent blizzards in the north, I won’t buy shoes unless they are out-grown.  But, alas, I found myself cruising Target (home away from home) looking for a suitable replacement.

Enter the mom moment:  she doesn’t fit in any of the kid shoes.

I passed her a (very cute) pair of size 6 women’s shoe.  “Try these just for kicks…I don’t think they’ll fit, though”.

Wrong.

My internal mom-olog was something like this: Surely those are too big (mashing toes with my thumbs), they AREN’T too big, wait…these are size 6’s?  She’s too little for size 6…she’s only 9…wait, ok, well, 9 and a half…but still…she’s my little girl!!  This isn’t happening, right?  Adult shoes?  Really?  Already?  Nooo…this isn’t happening.

Mom moment.  As I gazed at the row of shoes with their sky-high heels and chunky wedges and looked at my daughter I realized, ready or not, she’s moving on up.  Faster than I thought.  I’m super thankful for the still relatively innocent and naive demeanor she has, but it masks the fact that 5th grade is almost upon me.  Giggles with girlfriends as they whisper secrets.  Crushes.  Deodorant.  Greater mood swings and pimples.

In that moment, as I was placing those super cute adult sized shoes in the cart, I faced the fact that we all know but in the day-to-day of life, we never see clearly.  They grow up.  And I wonder, with what I’ve taught her, and will continue to teach her, will she grow up confident in who her God is?  Will she continue to trust Him?  Will she figure out who she is and not who others want her to be?  Will she know, truly know, how much she is loved?

Only God knows.  In the meantime, I’ll watch her prance in her new shoes and try to hang on to every moment I’m allowed.

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