Time is a funny thing.
One day you’re a brand new first-time mom, clueless, nervous, terrified and overwhelmed. Almost a decade later, you’re still overwhelmed, but less nervous, a lot less clueless, and the unpredictable chaos has become the constant hum in the background of motherhood. ⠀
It feels like one moment the future was a giant question mark. (Will I have two kids? Three? Only one?) The next moment I’m packing up the white converse. ⠀
I chose the tiny chucks because they fit fat feet. Grayson’s feet wouldn’t fit in normal shoes. I chose them because they were gender neutral and the future was unknown. Should I be blessed enough to be a mom to siblings, the shoes could be passed down to the next baby. ⠀
These sweet tiny shoes, now a dingy gray from hundreds of adventures, hold a treasure trove of memories. If they could only talk, the stories they would tell. From the beaches of coastal Georgia to the Iowa corn fields in the Northern California wineries- the shoes have traveled through the babyhood of three little humans and a chapter of motherhood I never expected to mourn. ⠀
My third and last baby just outgrew the white converse and it feels like the end of an era. I never would have expected the gut punch carried by the retirement of a simple pair of shoes, but then again, to quote A.A. Milne: