MY KID, THE SHOE HATER

What is it with small kids and their relationship with their shoes??!!

I don’t know if all parents have this problem with their children, but I can’t be the only one with a kid who loves his shoes one minute, then acts like they are the devils poop the next.

I realise kids like to run barefoot more than be restricted in shoes, but COME ON!! It’s not like we are making them wear exposed nails on their feet!

My son really does have a love/hate relationship with his footwear. More hate though. When we go shopping for new shoes again (his feet grow at a rate of 2mm per day), he gets quite excited. He will pick out the ones he likes, and even try them on. It’s a beautiful and loving experience. He is happy and talking nicely to me and the surrounding public. Everyone loves each other, and we all lived happily ever after.

Cue six hours later when we have to go out again and actually wear the new and expensive shoes, I have to endure the wrath of the shoe hater…….

“NOOOOOOO!!! I NOT WANT SHOES ON. EEEEKKKKKKK!! WAHHHHHHH!!

“NOT THOSE ONES!! NOOOOO!! I WANT THE ORANGE ONES!”

“WAHHHHHH! THESE ARE TOOO TIGHTTT!”

“PLEASE DON’T TORTURE ME MUMMY BY PUTTING THESE PROTECTIVE SHOES ON MY FEET SO I DON’T CONTRACT DISEASES FROM THE OUTSIDE WORLD! NOOOOO……I HATE MY LIFE!!!!”  (well, he may as well have said this)

The struggle is quite shit, as you can see.

And if it’s not the shoes, it’s the bloody socks…….

“WAHHHHH! THESE SOCKS ARE NOT SOFT ENOUGH!”

“NOOO! THESE ARE BABY SOCKS. NOT MINE! BABY SOCKS!!!”

So of course, I have to improvise when the evil socks are the only ones I have on me. I turn my back to him, turn the socks inside out, and walah!!! We now have the softest big boy socks in the world.

He falls for it every time.

As soon as we get back into the car, the first thing he will do is take his shoes off. Actually, the word take is incorrect…..it’s explained better as, he will grab his footwear and launch them across to the other side of the car. Usually at my head while I am driving.

Apparently it’s not possible for small children to take shoes off and just drop them nicely to the car floor below them. No. For them it makes more sense to throw them javelin style into Mum’s eyeballs.

The only shoes he will hardly* complain about are his green thongs. And that would be fine, except those stupid little bands at the back keep falling off his feet. And he INSISTS to stop for thirty seconds every five steps to pull them up. So a five minute walk turns into a half a day stroll.

*When I say hardly, I mean only four times an hour

The only 'shoes' he can tolerate.
His thongs. The only ‘shoes’ he can tolerate.

So this is the daily struggle. Every time we have to go out.

And yes, sometimes he doesn’t wear shoes when we are out. But it has to be in the vicinity of the beach. If we aren’t in a radius of maybe 300 metres from the beach, then the ‘No Shoes’ wearing policy goes out the window. You look redneck if you are shoeless and walking nowhere near the beach. Because, of the made up beach policy shoe rule I just invented.

But of course, my own shoes are quite fine for him to wear. Yes, damn those cute and foot arch supported shoes I just bought him – they are too evil. But Mummys’ shoes? Those are so much more comfortable. What with all the hardness and pressure on the ankles because of the three inch heels etc.

Those are just perfect.

Mummys shoes are so much more comfy than mine. I'm taking these ones.
Mummys shoes are so much more comfy than mine. I’m taking these ones.

Until his foot growth rate slows down, I suppose I will just have to put up with the shoe hater for now. Or maybe he can just walk in my heels for a day. That way he may just appreciate his nice soft shoes I buy him.

Anyone else’s children have a love/hate relationship with their shoes? Do your kids launch their shoes at your head whilst you are driving too? Let me know your experiences below.

Love (as Reeve says),
Yes_Peas_Mumma_signature

xxoo

p.s.  With all the shoes that have been thrown at my head in the car, it’s amazing that I haven’t had an accident. Maybe my head has grown accustomed to the inevitable painful smack of my kids footwear.

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