High Heels Are For...Mommies

Apparently that tattoo on my forehead that reads, "If you are crazy, weird, creepy, nosy or just plain perverted, please talk to me!" is still there.

Few things offer the chance to be held up and scrutinized, picked apart and judged like parenting. If you spank, you abuse your kids; if you don't, you're too soft on discipline. If you let your kids eat hot dogs, you're making them fat; if you don't, you're depriving them. If you only let them watch approved educational shows, you're not expanding their horizons enough; if you let them listen to the music you like, you're trying to be cool.

The judgement even comes down to what you wear. If you watch SNL, you've seen the spoof on "Mom Jeans."

I'm wondering why so many people care so much about what so many other people think and why people think pointing their fingers at what may be different makes them a better parent. Why would a stranger honestly care what kind of clothes I wear?

So the truth is I like to shop and I care about what I look like. I buy clothes for myself almost as often as I buy clothes for the kids. I like shoes. I like purses.

I especially like high heels.

Yesterday, before going over to see my mom and Rudy, we stopped by Target for baby wipes and a new manual breast pump. I was wearing high heeled sandals. They're cute shoes.

We were standing in line to pay when the woman behind me, also a mom, judging by the baby in an infant seat in her cart, says to me, "Don't those shoes hurt your feet?"

I said, "No, not really." (I wouldn't wear them if they hurt.)

"I stopped wearing heels when I had a baby. I could never chase kids at the playground in shoes like that." *superior look*

(Oooooookkkkkkayyy...who said anything about the playground? This is Target.)

A number of snarky replies came to mind, but the good angel on my shoulder won out this time and I said, "I love heels, I wear them all the time," and left it at that.

Now, if I wore heels to the playground, I'd probably fall down in the three inches of recycled-tire rubber chips underneath the swings and break my ankle. But if I'm shopping, or sitting on the couch at my mom's house, I like to wear my pretty shoes. If I saved them for "good," when would I wear them then?

I guess there is a whole school of thought that says when you become a mom, you put away fancy stuff and wear a uniform of jeans and tennis shoes, and that it's selfish to pay any attention to yourself. I guess I flunked out of that school.