Owen and his little buddies at school have this rhyme they sing at circle time. “Old shoes, new shoes, ____ is wearing ____ shoes!”. They go around and name each kid and describe their shoes. It’s quite cute. And you would think, after all of this singing about old shoes and new shoes, that when the time came to retire Owen’s old shoes in lieu of new shoes that he would be ready and willing.
You would be wrong.
Owen and I went shoe shopping on Labor Day and it was a total bust. Now, first of all, I will take full responsibility for planning our shoe shopping date on the worst possible day at the worst possible time. I had both boys to take care of singlehandedly and it was about a million degrees out, so I opted to take them to the air conditioned mall rather than a boiling hot playground. Unfortunately, being that it was a holiday Monday and very few things were open and NO ONE wanted to be outside, everyone and their brother (and son and daughter) were at the mall. Apparently with the exact same plan that I had: Play at the playplace and burn off some energy, then hit up Stride Rite before coming home for lunch and a nap.
So, for starters, the playplace was a MADHOUSE. I’ve never seen so many screaming, running, barefoot children in one small, rubber-covered space. Ew. Still, Owen loves running around there, so I gritted my teeth, covered my sleeping baby’s stroller with a blanket in hopes of protecting him from the chaos, and pretended to enjoy myself. After letting Owen run like crazy for 40 minutes or so, I lured him out, got his shoes on and we headed for Stride Rite.
I was pretty proud of myself for surviving the first half of our errand without a meltdown and naively thought that the shoe-buying part would be the easy part.
It seems that everyone who had just been playing at the playplace had also made a mad dash to Stride Rite to pick out new shoes for the upcoming school year. The tiny store was so crowded I could barely step in, let alone maneuver my stroller in there (holding my now-awake-and-getting-cranky baby). I sidestepped our way in to at least see if we could measure Owen’s feet and realized after about 10 minutes that it was going to be a LONG time until we were helped. In that time, Owen had picked up and fallen in love with no fewer than 4 Spiderman shoes. Spiderman was not exactly on my “to buy” list (for style mainly, but can we talk about how expensive those shoes are too?!).
I reached my boiling point (literally and figuratively) and grabbed Owen and the stroller in one fell swoop and bailed completely on shoe shopping. That’s when I knew what I would do. I would go to my usual no-fail shopping spot. Amazon. Or Target. Or the consignment store down the street.
After a quick search based on what I had learned at the shoe store (I think Owen is a size 8, and he thinks all sneakers are “too tight” because he’s not used to wearing them), I found these adorable kicks.
Teeny tiny Saucony sneaks for a fraction of the Stride Rite price. Score.
They arrived last night, and this morning while I woke Emmett up I heard Benjamin attempting to get Owen to put them on. Oh, the whining. You would have thought Benjamin was trying to get him to wear a shirt made of thorns.
Does every child hate new shoes? I can’t even tell if they fit properly because he doesn’t want to put them on. Veteran Mamas, what is the secret? Will he just get over it? (My gut says yes, because lately he’s been whining about all kinds of things that he actually likes, and he gets over it pretty quickly). Any tips for making the shoe switcheroo? His sandals are going to get very chilly when the fall weather actually comes.
And, while we’re at it, where do you get your kids’ shoes? Do you let them pick out their shoes themselves even if you hate the ones they pick?