A confession

12 Jul

So here is a little list comprising some of the many possible annoyances arising from trying to match a pair of shoes with a toddler:

  • Toddler won’t sit still long enough for you to lace, buckle or button the shoes
  • When she does sit still long enough, fiddling around getting it done takes so long you’re likely to miss a bus (or, like, a developmental milestone or something)
  • Some shoes are very easy to put on (baby Havaianas!! Squee!). These ones are also very easy to get off. So easy that … a toddler can do it! This usually occurs when you’re walking along a busy footpath in the middle of town and there’s all sorts of dogcrap and chewed gum along your way and the kid for once in her life refuses to be picked up.
  • A toddler loves to put shoes on by herself, but shoes are often too complicated for this – toddler gets frustrated, and you have to enter peace talks with her
  • Toddler tends to walk into river fully clothed and shoe-d – you have to dry the shoes
  • Toddler loves splashing in mud-puddles – you have to wash the shoes
  • Many shoes just don’t stand up to the strain of the work-out: the frustrated attempts at self-dressing, the swimming, the puddle-hopping
  • Tiny shoes can be ridiculously expensive
  • As a general rule, the more expensive the shoe, the more likely it is to get lost, get destroyed, get covered in house-paint or float (quite literally) down the river
  • As another general rule, the cuter the shoes, the harder they are to put on or the more uncomfortable for the toddler to wear (and I feel a little bad teaching her the maxim ‘beauty is pain’ at this point in her young life)

Readers, I’m setting the scene here. Just trying to defend myself, to society in general and Miss Bee’s aunty in particular.

‘Coz:

I bought the kid crocs.

Well, fake crocs, 1500 Hungarian forints (about NZ$8), from Tesco.

They solve Every. Single. Problem! What was a mama to do??

Zelda, I know you know what I’m talking about – the glow bug was a croddler (croc-rockin’ toddler) long before Miss Bee entered the scene. Back me up here??
And don’t worry, Aunty C, it’s never gonna go this far, I promise you:

Jenny Garth, wtf?!

Daisy
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4 Responses to “A confession”

  1. chlo July 12, 2012 at 10:24 am #

    oh man I thought at least they’re be 1 forrint op-shop jobbys! you bought them new! despair.

  2. chlo July 12, 2012 at 10:27 am #

    ..and I’m torn between interpreting you buying them in my signature colour as a further dig at me and a touching way for her to be close to me

    • daisyandzelda July 12, 2012 at 12:05 pm #

      you know it’s her signature colour too! Hap hap! (ie: the latter, of course)

Trackbacks/Pingbacks

  1. 2011-2012: An epic journey « daisyandzelda - January 14, 2013

    [...] Do your single childless friends find it hard to understand where you disappeared to immediately after squeezin’ that melon through your lady bits? Tell them where to find you: obsessing over squeaky-clean celebs on Sesame Street, or making jam, or fighting with your toddler just to get them dressed. [...]

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