A Man and His Shoes

For most of my life, I didn't spend more than a few seconds thinking about shoes...mine, or anyone else's. I remember being amused when my sister, on many occasions, pointed out how silly various unsuspecting passerbys looked with mismatching shoes and belts. What guy would care?

Then I met the Mrs. After I asked her out on our first real date, I became very aware that I didn't have an appropriate pair to wear. Dr. S and I headed out on a shopping trip and I looked at shoes in a new way. Fortunately we picked out a good pair that day. The Mrs. and I wound up walking around the Mall for several hours the next day and I managed to break them in without any blisters.

The second pair of shoes I remember acquiring came on my birthday a month before we got married. The Mrs. bought me a pair of Steve Maddens. I had never heard of Steve Madden, and was leery of a shoe designed by and named for a guy. So I overcompensated a bit by immediately referring to them as my John Maddens. Once people started to notice my shoes and nodded approvingly, I realized the Mrs. had done me a big favor that I had had no clue I was in need of. Perhaps I should have paid attention to my sister years ago.

Over the last three years I've gotten kind of attached to my first two special pairs of shoes. So much so that I've intentionally overlooked the holes in their soles. Sure, it was annoying when little rocks rattled around in the heels, but it was a fun challenge to get them out.

Today, when we took a family outing to the the mall (not the Mall), the Mrs. suggested that I might want to think about getting some new shoes. Being a slower learner on things sartorial, my first reaction was, "why spend money on shoes?" Then the frontal lobes kicked in and I realized a) I should listen to my wife about fashion (for lots of reasons!), b) my current work-horse shoes really were in sad shape, and c) she who inspired my favorite pairs was is a good position to make the call on pulling the plug.

So I am now the proud owner of two new pairs of shoes that I like a lot. The old ones have now been dumped in the trash unceremoniously (but for this post), and I think I have to admit that I've been converted into a guy who cares, at least a bit, about shoes.

But there are limits. Consider the following (from Amazon):
Never before have men's shoes achieved such importance - yet women have been overlooking this most important personality determinant, says author Kathryn Eisman. Offering this book as a guide to understanding men from the ground up, Eisman reveals the secrets of male footwear.

I won't be buying this one...yet!

Happy 3 Month Birthday

To celebrate Phoebe's three month birthday she had some milk and is taking a nap...just like every other day! But, we also stopped by Cake Love and the Mister and I indulged in a special three month birthday cupcake. Oh, it was tasty!


P is growing...not sure what her stats are these days. But she loves to stand if someone is holding her- she holds her head up and looks around. She has finally started grabbing things, though she is still not fully aware that those things are her hands. And she has a serious Love Affair with the ceiling fan, any ceiling fan really, she is not picky. She gets a big grin and then sort of hides her face as if she is flirting with the fan...it is adorable!

We have had a great three months with this sweet baby girl.

gettin out

Take a guess...where did P and I spend our morning yesterday??

Bright Phlowers

Phoebe was born less than 24 hours after the sunflowers were planted. They've grown a little faster, but Phoebe isn't intimidated!

New A.P. Project Tactics

She Phlies

Last Saturday (P's 11 week birthday) we boarded a plane for the cornhusker state. P is a Phantastic Phlier! After two family trips, one on a plane and one driving, I think we can say she is a good traveler. And a cute one too!

delighted

This morning I woke up at 8:30; thought to myself, where is P, did Mr. leave without saying good-bye?

I came downstairs to find a happy dad and a happy baby. Mister put some of that frozen milk to good use and went into work late.

The extra hours of sleep were delightful!

"A.P." Projects

We all have lots of markers in our lives: "before college," "after I got married," etc. I'm learning that Phoebe is one of the biggest markers yet. Now there is "Before Phoebe" or "B.P." and "after Phoebe" or "A.P." As one might expect, the kinds of projects I work on around the house have definitely shifted in the A.P. period.

Today I decided to work on the baby swing. The Special Ks very kindly gave us their extra battery-powered swing for Phoebe. We were hesitant to use it at first (why let some device hold your baby when you can yourself?). Then we learned that the Phoebe actually likes the swing more than she likes us. Or perhaps more nicely, the swing is better at boring her than we are. Either way, Phoebe goes to sleep much more quickly in the swing than in our arms. And she stays asleep longer. It's hard to hold on to ideals when your baby's sleep is involved! Score one for the machines.

To add insult to injury, the machine requires that we feed it 4 D cell batteries every few weeks. That bugs me, both because I'm cheap and because I think it is a privilege to hold P...we shouldn't have to support the machine. And besides, what engineer thought people would use baby swings in places where there aren't electrical outlets?

So I set off to Radio Shack with a plan to buy stuff to convert the swing from batteries to a wall plug. I had a vague idea of what to get...4 1.5 volt D batteries should be 6 volt DC power. But how many amps? The nice man at the Shack seemed pretty confident that it would be about 800 mA. They happened to have that kind of converter, so I got one. And then I went digging in the drawers where they have all the cool switches, plugs, and stuff. They had the perfect toggle switch that would allow the swing to alternate between wall power for when the swing is near an outlet and battery power for all the times we'll be in places where they don't have electricity...like...uh...when we take the 20 pound swing backpacking in the deep woods. I suppose I could have just converted it to AC wall power only, but the first rule of baby equipment tinkering is 'do no harm,' right? (It strikes me now, though, that we could have used the battery storage area as a pacifier storage area...that might have been an improvement.) At least the next time the power goes out and Phoebe needs to sleep, we'll be ready!

After taking out a bunch of screws, cutting some wires, fiddling with the multi-tester (pretending I had a clue what it does), and attaching the switch, it actually worked! Switch it "O" and you get outlet power, or to "B" and you get battery power.

Now, onto the shop-vac-assisted diaper changing system...

3:30 in the afternoon

I finally sat down to have my cup of coffee today. P is sleeping; my work load is slow right now, so I am going to sit down and enjoy a cup of coffee. I don't have to feed Phoebe for a few hours which allows some time for the caffeine to work its way out of my blood (and her milk). It is tricky getting this cup of coffee in during my day...often times I am sitting down to eat breakfast about an hour before P is going to eat so I must deny myself the much needed cup. But today I am treating myself to a mid afternoon cup of joe. And the NYT.

As I sip my cup I am reminded of mornings at V Street with the ladies...lazy Saturday mornings with the Mister, each of us with our Saturday mug cradled in our hands...late nights in studio when we all decided we need one last cup of coffee before the Mill closes for the night...and many times when coffee was the thing that kept the conversation going.

Cheers.

Cousins