Shoos!

When I used to dream of having a daughter, I imagined molding her into a miniature version of myself.

Funny how it doesn't really work that way.

See, I was (and largely still am) a tomboy. I preferred baseball to Barbies and Matchbox cars to Rainbow Brite. I never cared for fashion or makeup. Even today, my wardrobe consists of jeans, Old Navy t-shirts, and flip-flops. The closest I get to makeup is Burt's Bee's tinted lip balm.

Yet somehow I have created a daughter who loves nothing more than purses, sunglasses, and, most of all, shoes.

When Anna was about eight months old I had her in a kid's clothing store, and I remember her reaching out to touch the shoes. She threw a fit until I gave her one to carry around while we shopped. I thought it was funny.

One day a few months later we were in a store, and Anna started pointing and saying, "Ooze? Ooze?" Awwww, she was saying "shoes!" One of her first words.

Now it has evolved into a full-blown obsession.

When we were in Texas at the mall where Elias played in the human hamster ball, I took Anna into Stride Rite to look for some shoes. She was in the carrier on my back, and as soon as we walked in I could feel her start squirming with giddiness.

"Ooze!" she yelled.

"Yes, SHoes," I repeated, stressing the "sh."

"Ooze!" she yelled again.

"Yes, SHoes," I repeated.

Imagine that exchange occurring as we passed each of the next three dozen or so pairs of shoes.

Finally, she got the idea that there should be a "sh" sound in there.

"Oosh?" She started saying, a welcome change from the ooze.

"Close. SH-oes."

"Oosh?"

Then she did it.

"Shhhhh. Ooo."

"Yes! Shoe!"

For the next two hours, Anna kept repeating, "shhhhhhh. oooooooo," carefully puckering her little lips into a perfect "sh."

It was quite adorable.

Since then, "shoe" and "shoos" have become her favorite words...and her favorite things.

We were shopping the other day and passed a shoe store. Anna stopped and pointed to each pair in the window, exclaiming, "Shoos! Shoos! Shoos!" She then put her hands behind her back and pressed her face to the window in apparent adoration of the display.

I bought her a pair of cold-weather boots and put them in her closet. When she woke up the next morning, she insisted on holding them while I changed her diaper, and insisted on wearing them all day despite temperatures soaring into the 80s.



Yesterday we went to a Disney outlet store. I was perusing the goods while Anna hung out with my mom in another part of the store.

"Oh!" I heard Anna exclaim. We thought she was happy to have spotted me. A split second later, she squealed, "SHOOOOOOOS," jumped out of my mom's arms, and made a beeline to a display of black Crocs lined with red fur. She grabbed a pair off the rack, sat down on the floor, and proceeded to remove her brown Converse to try them on. How could I tell her no?

I realize that buying my daughter shoes negates our attempt to reduce the number of things we own. But they're so cute, and they make her so happy, and they're small enough that they really don't take up much room. (Plus I only buy on sale.)

And that is how my 17-month old daughter came to own more shoes than I do.