First Shoes

I may be mad following this weeks trouble with shoes, but on Friday we ticked off an exciting milestone.

FIRST PAIR OF SHOES.

I had no real intention of making the purchase, but after advice from our physio that Wriggles' feet and legs really need some support to help her standing as she is all over the place, I thought it would be wise at least to get her feet measured. Her feet, like the rest of her, look so dainty that I fully expected she would not fit any of the styles of Cruisers let alone First Walkers. So you could have knocked me off my chair when the foot gauge revealed she was a size 3F!

I was pleasantly surprised by just how good the customer service was in Clarks. It was nearing the end of the day, Wriggles was in a "don't-you-dare-touch-my-feet" mood and I was very nearly going to call it a day and come back when she was more full of energy and likely to enjoy it (if that is ever possible when you hate your feet being touched). But the two ladies persevered in cheering her up by showing her sparkly shoes, flashing trainers and asking to be introduced to Charlie Mouse who had come for the journey. After some impressive persuasion, the little pink shoes were fitted and I decided to just bite the bullet and supply the credit card necessary. We got a photograph, heigh chart and certificate for our troubles. Oh yes, and some New Shoes.

I reckon such a statement of growing up is exciting to any parents for their children, but it left a big impression of me. Such wonderful-yet-to-be-expected milestones seem that little bit more precious after Wriggles' difficult journey, and after the continuing physio and support we have had surrounding her delayed gross motor skills, it was is a pleasant surprise and sheer joy and delight that I see her progressing and with the footwear to match as a badge of honour. 

Back in NICU, "first shoes" never crossed my mind. At that point I did not know if she would ever even be capable of walking as she grew up. My mind lived in the moment; thoughts of the future and the excitement to come were written off simply because of the fear that at the last hurdle they might be cruelly denied. I didn't dream of first birthday cakes, silly jokes or first shoes, I dreamt of my baby in my arms and that one day she would recognise me. Even now, when we are 'out of the woods' and safe at home, growing and exploring new things every day, I don't think a day passes without me thinking back to the difficult start. It is forever imprinted on my mind and I fear sometimes that I don't allow myself enough to become carried away with the freedom of being in the now Good moments and letting myself trust. Even the best times, when we laugh with abandon and Wriggles screeches with laughter and I drink her in, every last little tiny bit that I must memorise forever and ever, after the moment I think back. I am grateful we are now here and there, still sorrowful for being there and in a heartbeat guilty for not being able to let go and forget. But today, was a day of New Shoes. A sign of how far we have come. Nearly two years ago, I could have lost my baby. But I didn't and she has the prettiest, pinkest cruisers to prove it.

Test Driving the New Shoes (did I mention she has New Shoes?!)

De-Cluttering

I am having a clear-out or clear-up.
I have always been a perpetually messy sort and I am slightly ashamed to let people into my house.


I find sort-outs quite therapeutic too and a little trip down memory lane, finding parts of you that you might have forgotten about. I have a (very large) memory box where treasured birthday cards, postcards, rambling letters and funny post-it notes from friends go. I also have the only physical token of my albeit brief courtship with Wriggles' father, when on our first date after a few glasses of wine we decided to compare handwriting on a scrap of paper. Funny the things you keep. When after a while he disappeared into the ether, or at least, stopping calling me, I meant to throw it out. Now I'm quite glad, not because I have particularly sentimental feelings about or for him, but that there is some evidence that we at least met in a not-just-procreating sense.


Amongst my mountains of things, I also have like every parent, A LOT of baby items. It always amazes me how one small person can take up so much room and acquire so many things in such a short space of time. But acquire they do! And grow, relatively quickly. I now have amongst other things a baby-seat, a moses basket and rocker, a large pram, a sling, a slightly faulty pushchair and a baby bath as well as probably hundreds of clothes, ranging from premature sizes up until 6-12 months. Some is millionth hand already, but most of it is in pretty good condition. And it is taking up room. I have already sorted out some things which have gone into a memory box for Wriggles, and kept first tiny gloves and favourite jumpers, but I am still left with a multitude of things and no one small enough to use them. Recently I began working with Tiny Lives and their Nearly New sales that raise money to support the neonatal unit where Wriggles spent the first two months of her life. In the past I have donated and sold items that I had no use for, and now I am wondering whether it is time to clear out other bits and bobs that I simply have no use for anymore. Many things have had a lot of wear as Wriggles was and is, still a titch, so over the 17 months or 15 that she has been at home with me, she still uses many things more suitable for a 9 month old. 

Big feet little feet

I've never been one of those stereotypical girls obsessed with shoes who squeals with glee everytime sparkly footwear comes into vision. I do have favourite shoes though which I were until they literally fall to pieces or I concede defeat. As a student, my mum would physically bin shoes of mine that she deemed "dead" when I went home. One time I had to travel back wearing some very old school shoes as my Converse had mysteriously "disappeared" during the course of the visit.

Brrrrr winter time

Brrr the cold snap is drawing in and I have left my gloves at the office. Silly mummy. Just before winter sets in, I get all excited and start eagerly unearthing woolly knitted items, thermals, slippers and hats from the depths of my wardrobe and Wriggles'. This is her second winter, but feels like her first as last year she was newly-home and teeny tiny, so we stayed in most of the time as she was on oxygen and it was snowing.

So this winter was full of jumpers and fleeces and still-small gloves. The latter did not last long. Wriggles is at the throwing everything stage and I have lost count of how many gloves we have lost over the side of the pushchair. Ditto hats; she will not tolerate things on her head and flings these gleefully into the road.

She does however tolerate her penguin slippers, our favourite winter accessory. These were bought from Next in December and have barely left her feet since. You can tell. They are clearly scruffy, bobbly and grubby: the marks of a well loved item! When not wearing them she will happily throw them about and share at the faces. 

For more diminutive adorable small-people winter accessories, head over to pretty.little.things this week hosted at Mummy, Daddy and Me Makes Three.
 

Showing the penguins off with Great Grandparents