My Sea Legs

Running late, I slide on the flip flops near the back door, glad they're teal, glad they're comfortable, glad I don't need to run back to my room to find another pair of shoes.

I strap Abbey and Dylan into their seats, crank the air-conditioning or roll down the windows, slick on my Burt's Bees chapstick, and sing along with Abbey on the way to our destination.

I forget about the flip flops.

Then I glimpse myself walking in a store window, and I do that familiar double take.  Who is that short person pushing our stroller?  The one with the rounded legs and ungraceful gait?

Suddenly, I remember the flip flops.  I feel the plastic between my toes, the lack of arch support, the flatness of my walk.

I wish I had worn my wedges.

When I get home, I bring these down from my closet and carefully place them near the door, vowing that they'll replace the flip flops as my easy, running late companion.

A simple wedge, about three inches, they wear fabric that invokes a feeling of the tropics.  I've never worn them to a luau, but they don't know that.

Just as easy as flip flops, I slide my feet along the fabric-covered raffia as I open the door for Abbey, scooping Dylan from the top of the landing as he clicks the baby gate closed behind him.

I throw my over-sized tangerine purse onto the floor under Dylan's seat, make sure they both have a book or toy or cup of water before settling into my own seat, adjust the volume on the radio from my drive to the gym last night.

The routine hasn't changed from the day before.  We walk this path day after day; the dance of getting out of the house is one all three of us could do blindfolded.

But today, when I walk past a storefront, I recognize the reflection.  A messy bun, hair still wet, sunglass-free because I've broken another pair, pushing the stroller and steering clear of Abbey's heels as she insists on walking a little too close to her brother.

My stride is confident, natural, leg muscles slightly defined.  I'm back on my sea legs, three inches off the ground.

Come join my friend Kir and me (and a bunch of other shoe lovers) on The Summer of Sole Sisters shoe sharing blog hop!  Or just come and feast your eyes on some cute summer shoes.  See you there!