We had a "family day" yesterday, the boys were out of school (I know middle of the week, weird, but I'll take it) and Danny was off. So we all slept in, how nice is that! Okay I really don't know if the three older boys slept in but Caleb and I did. I thought we would relax, maybe pick up the house and just enjoy not having to go anywhere or do anything. But.... Zachary and Ryan both needed new shoes, they got football cleats, not school shoes before school started. Ryan has been waiting and waiting to go shopping for shoes, and I've been dreading taking him. We haven't had a day we could go, and weekends are full, and yes I'm full of excuses... there are some difficult things in life that I would rather not face so I put them off as long as possible. Shopping for anything with Ryan is one of those things. Some of you have been through the whole experience with me and know I am not exaggerating. Instead of having the nice relaxing day I was envisioning, we went shopping. Zachary tried on a few pairs, found one he liked and was good to go in about 20 minutes. Ryan bee-lined straight to the most expensive pair in the store and was immediately crushed by mean mom, then went to the ones with the freaky looking skulls on them, which we discuss every time we go shopping, the "I will not buy anything with skulls on it for you to wear on any part of your body" hasn't sunk in yet, 45 minutes later, I tell Danny I'm taking the other boys and running over to Target where I get what we need and head back to the truck, I am not going near the shoe store! Another 45 minutes passes and finally out they come, with the shoes we had picked out way back when I was still with them, and with new laces because the ones in the shoes are just all wrong. And no he wasn't happy with them until this morning when he was the first one ready to go.


Now I have to explain why shoe shopping in particular with Ryan is so hard for me (Mom you can stop reading here, you know what's coming).


Somewhere in mom's house is a plastic bag, with a great pair of shoes in it, (a great big pair I might add) they turned twenty this year around the beginning of school. I never thought much about those shoes before I had kids of my own and started going through what I refer to as the "Shoe Battles". But now that I do, every time we go shoe shopping those shoes and what they represent are in the back of my mind. The plastic bag is the kind they send things home from the hospital in (and really I don't know if they are still in that bag, my memories are 20 years old too) and the shoes are the last shoes my brother, Bryan, ever wore. The shoes that he pitched a Ryan size fit over because he really wanted "cooler more expensive ones" and fought my mom (who had 6 other kids to shoe and clothe) until they finally compromised and got the ones that she has. Now when we go to look at shoes,especially around this time of year; I want to say "Ryan get what you want, pick out whatever you like I don't care what they cost or look like" thinking... it could be the last pair. But I don't because, I tell myself they won't be, and I need to teach him all those boring things about budget and what your appearance says about the person you are, and that yes it is okay to compromise. I know I read a lot into a pair of shoes! It is a bittersweet experience to look at my boys and be reminded, on occasion by the things they do and the way they act, of my big brother.