Look at our new shoes!

I really wouldn't have given them a moments blog-thought...
but Katie came clomping down the stairs this morning
all dressed and ready to go.
New shoes with a heel.

Me: Emma are those too grown up?
Can she walk in them?
Walk Katie.
Walk Katie.

Emma: Ahuh. They're fine.

Me: Not too grown up?

Emma: No.

Me: Okay, we will get them.

Katie: Thank you mommy!
Thank you mommy!


My shoes were purchased the day before.
Aren't they sweet.
I have had my eye on those shoes for a few months.
I visit them when I take Katie to dance class.
I never thought they would fit because I have such a high in step.
The young, enthusiastic shoe salesman said to try them, they stretch.

So I did.

He also recommended arch supports.
I got those too.

These feet have a big job ahead of them.
I am determined that they will not let me down.


But...all of the shoe talk is just a big distraction, anyway.

Sob Story Ahead

I tried on pants and jeans for two days and did not find a pair that would zip over my big tummy.

Okay, I'm just going to say it.

I tried on 18's.

None of the stores carried the next size.
Which I can't even bring myself to type that number.

So I think I will have to take my really worn out black pants and really worn out black skirt to Europe.

I don't know if I can bear going to more stores to try on bigger pants.

Oh, heavens, this is getting depressing.


Hey! Look at my tote bag!




I must distract the people of Europe from looking at my tired old black pants and skirt.
And I am not kidding about how tired and old they are.
At least seven years old. I have mended both items.
Yeah. I'm not making it up.

So what else can I do.

Highlights.

That's it.

I'll get my hair done.

The ravishing beauty of my hair will draw all attention away from my not-pregnant, but appears pregnant, tummy.



Here is a charming vignette from my jeans shopping debacle;

Imagine if you dare...


Katie is trying on size 6 slims in the dressing room at Old Navy with Emma's help.
I enter the room to see how Katie is doing, carrying two pair of jeans for myself.

Katie blurts: Those are gigantic!!!

Emma and I exchange pained glances.

Me: (covering Katie's mouth) That's not nice. (big frown)

Katie: I thought they were for me.


Good recovery Katie.

Those pants would make a fine tent for Katie.

Cause they were too small for me!



Oh, I know, no one will be looking at me on the trip.
They will be looking at the artistic wonders of the world and dodging pigeons....

I know.


But, hey! Aren't those shoes cool?



Encourage one another,
Donna