Mama’s Got Some New Shoes

Several weeks ago, a friend of mine posted this picture of Tina Fey with Snow White at Disney. We zeroed in on her shoes.

Tina Fey. Awesome. Tina Fey's shoes? Awesomer.
Tina Fey. Awesome. Tina Fey’s shoes? Awesomer.

We wanted THOSE shoes. We wanted red, t-strap, open-toe, clog-style shoes. I eventually gave up searching on-line because I’m sure they were probably a pair of custom-made in Hollywood shoes and cost $5,000 so it really wouldn’t matter if I ever figured it out.

I wish I could remember what I was doing a couples weeks ago when I came across a post about some clogs: Sven Clogs. I landed on their home page. I had found Tina Fey’s clogs in above picture.

It took a little surfing on their page to find the exact style, but they only showed them in a denim suede color and that didn’t trip my trigger enough to spend that kind of money on them. The order set-up for their shoes is not set up in a way that a first-timer will immediately figure out so I’m here to help you out with that.

First step is to decide if you’re a low, medium or high heel kind of girl. I found the style above in both the medium and high heel, but I thought I better ease myself into it (plus they had a one-day sale on them. Bonus.).


Select your size, which is European based. I’m a solid 7 1/2 so I chose 38. You can mail an outline of your foot to the company if you want to make sure and have the patience. Now you need to select your “Base”: black, brown or natural. Here’s a snapshot of those colors, which I didn’t find on but on a different clog blog’s site. The other picture is an example of the bendable compared to the bendable base.


This is where things get fun because their leather and color options are phenomenal. Seriously. The only option you won’t have is vegan. Sorry. It’s all Moo, all the time, and I’m cool with that.

download5 download6 download7

I placed my order for a single pair (medium heel, brown base, red, smooth leather), and I’ll admit their shipping charges left me a tad cold, but they showed up a few days later and now I couldn’t be happier. I wore them last weekend even though it’s still too darn cold to really enjoy them. I love them. I’ve “Liked” their Facebook page, which provides discounts, examples, and notices of sales.


I’m not being compensated in any way by Sven Clogs, but if they wanted to throw a free pair at me, I wouldn’t say no. I just noticed that many of my friend’s (the one who I mentioned above) friends struggled with the web site’s options, and since I didn’t feel like “writing” a real post, I figured why not, right? By the way, there’s a less expensive version that Hannah Andersson sells (Ugglebo). I have my own thoughts about the bases being so strikingly similar, but I’m not going to stick my clog in my mouth.

P.S. My editor informed me this morning that the Disney character with Tina is most certainly NOT Cinderella, but Snow White. My editor is four. She did not take kindly to the mistake.

Her (My) HERO

Before I share a story with you that would confirm to all of you that I can be a truly heartless person, I first just have to say this: I’ve read thousands of blog posts over the years (going on eight years). Many of them have either made me reconsider how much I share about my personal life, including my children’s OR they reaffirm that exposing intimate details about myself is nothing to be ashamed of. So I guess that just means your posts expressing either opinion give me pause, and I that’s a good thing, right?

I waffled between not sharing this story (because it painted me in a bad light) and just having to share it (because it makes Dood shine) for the reasons stated above. Also, I am not a perfect parent and while that pains me in some ways, I’ll never be accused of blowing smoke up someone’s ass.

Yesterday was just a mentally stressful day. Some days just are that way for me even though nothing specifically will trigger them. I chalk it up to my untreated depression and run with that and a pair of scissors, pointed ends up. My work schedule allows us to have Tuesday afternoons off to make appointments and run errands that we can’t normally do during the rest of the week. While my contract is "7:30 – 4:30", it’s really just more a guideline. Working for a surgeon means I get to work before clients arrive, and I work until the last one leaves, and that sometimes means 6:30 a.m. to 8:00 p.m. So, yeah, Tuesday afternoons are a wonderful respite.

By the time I get the errands done on Tuesdays, it’s time to pick up the kids. Yesterday, I finished early so I picked them up early. I was doing them a "favor", releasing them from the drudgery of daycare and afterschool programs….yeah, right. Before I could even get the second kid to buckle up, there were screeching, snarling and whining at, over, to, over, each other. It makes me want to open both doors and roll their asses out within a block. I hate that 20 minute drive home.

Once I got home, I set Doodicus to task on his homework and tried to give Aitch some busywork. Of course they have to do all of that within 24 square inches of each other and the screeching, snarling and whining only perpetuates. I hid in my bedroom and tuned them out, i.e. ignored the little assholes. And then I heard Dood yell at Aitch, "Get that out of your mouth!" (The boy can focus on every little thing SHE does but he can’t get his name written on his homework assignment. *sigh*)

A couple days ago, Aitch swallowed a small washer. She often puts rocks, coins, squinkies, etc., in her mouth and she’s repeatedly told not to do so. We didn’t have this issue when she was a toddler, so now she seems to be making up for it. After she swallowed that washer, we gave her a good dress-down and the dangers of the habit, so when I heard she had something she knowingly wasn’t suppose to, I blew my top. She tried as desperately as a four year old can to keep me from taking the item away, which happened to be an elastic hair band, the kind that looks like a gummy lifesaver. I easily pried her fingers away and held up the offending object and said, "Watch me." I walked to the deck door, opened it, and flung it out and over the rail. I slid the door shut, locked it with a flick, and turned to watch Aitch break into tearful sobs.

Well, of course I fell like an utter dick, but dammit! I’m sick of telling her not to. I’m sick of Dood telling her not to. And I’m sick of the two paying more attention to what the other is doing that they shouldn’t!

My son, who doesn’t often display empathy, turned to me and said, "That was really mean, mom." I said nothing and walked away.

A couple minutes later I overheard Dood, "See? Look. It’s that blue thing right there," and I peaked around the corner to see the two of them sitting on the windowseat that faces the backyard. Dood was looking through a pair of small binoculars. Without them realizing I had heard them, my son told his sister that he would go out and get it back for her. He put on his shoes and bundled up (it was nasty cold yesterday), and went out on the deck, down the stairs, and located this ridiculous hairband in the grass. Aitch stood at the deck door and watched him return with it and deposit it triumphantly into her outstretched hands.

Those two fight constantly. It’s what siblings do. They have each ratted on the other resulting in loss of many privileges, more so as Aitch becomes impossibly independent and vocal. But yesterday, Dood became a Hero to Aitch, and I was the Evil Villain. She did not come running to me in tears because of something Dood had done. Dood rescued something of hers, selflessly. knowing that the only reward would be seeing Aitch no longer sad.

And this is why I write about the personal moments, because for every ugly and raw moment that makes me believe I am doing everything wrong as a parent, there is something breathlessly beautiful and heart-soothing to remind me that my children are getting it right.

My Seuss Shelves

When Aitch was a baby, I stumbled across a small display cabinet, which was for sale by a store closing in the mall. It was pretty beat up and a dark blue inside and out. With some leftover paint, I gave it a quick face-lift and used it in her room for books. It’s done its duty for these past few years as just that: a simple bookshelf.

Today as a blizzard raged outside, I decided to retire Aitch’s baby board books, and I also had Doodicus help me sort through his books that were OK to hand down to his little sister. While I was able to pull out 20 board books, which take up a lot of room because of their width, I probably reassigned 30 of Dood’s. Luckily, they are mostly first-readers and paper, so while they are thin, they are taller.

The bookshelf just wouldn’t hold all the books. If I made the top shelf “short”, it was mostly wasted space since a lot of books were too tall for it. It then meant many of her tall books had to lay on the bottom shelf and that turns into a clustermuck. As she gets older, she won’t have as many hardbound books. Paperbacks will get slouchy and bent, so I experimented.

I took each of the shelves and dropped the adjustable pegs down on one side only resulted in sloped shelves. Once I restocked the books, I couldn’t believe how much room I had left over! Granted, in a couple of weeks it will look as if a major earthquake has hit, but right now? I like it. It’s quirky, fun, and organized. There’s even room for her Highlights magazines that I had been piling up on her dresser.

Wonky Bookcase
Wonky Bookcase

I’m getting LASIK

It’s been depressing here so I’m going to shake it up with something NOT depressing. However, it may be frustrating as I’m blogging on my droid which usually results in me accidentally deleting everything or the photos not posting.

Friday, I am getting LASIK on my left eye. I’ve been considering it for years now and there’s seems to be no point in delaying it longer. I am near-sighted, which means I can’t see far. Seems obvious, right? However I also need bifocals for the computer.

What makes my circumstances unusual in some ways is that mysuper near vision is very good. In fact I can easily work on the minuscule sliver as long as I am NOT wearing my contacts.

The dilemma I faced when consulting with the optometrist is if I fix my nearsightedness (so I will be able to see far away) it will negatively affect what I can see close up. This is a conumdrum.

That’s when my doc suggested I think about monovision correction, which is when they fix the nearsightedness in the dominant eye, and then fix the farsightedness (to help me see close) on the other eye. I could actually test this by wearing ONE contact for a few days. The surgeon confirmed but had this to add: since the correction to the eye for FARsightedness in my left eye would make it about as good as it is now in my RIGHT eye (my dominant) eye, I should also consider correcting only the left for nearsightedness and doing nothing with the right.

Now I’m sure I’ve lost you, right, I mean CORRECT?

The short of it was to experiment with the idea of monovision. So for a couple days I wore a contact in my left eye and then I wore one in my right eye. The affect is disconbobulating, to say the least, especially for night time driving. I couldn’t handle that for a drive for anything longer than a shot into town. I realized that if I corrected only one eye, I will have to get glasses for nightime driving. On the upside, I would no longer have to wear glasses during the day, specifically when I’m outside, whether doing yardwork or when I take the kids to the pool. This is actually a huge deal for me because I usually have to switch out the glasses for contacts anytime I want to wear sunglasses.

The downside is no matter what, my eyesight cannot be corrected enough or in any combination to avoid corrective glasses in some kind of capacity for nights and days spent in my office. I am fine with that. The other interesting discovery I made experimenting with only correcting one eye, specifically my left (remember, that is my non-dominant eye), is I will have to adjust how I use a camera (no more viewfinder), or shoot pool, or even if I decide to take up a hobby like archery. But as it is, I’m not a professional photographer nor do I participate in any activities routinely that I regret choosing my left eye over the right for LASIK.

And that’s where I am now. I’ve had my eyeballs measured and the topography mapped. I started a short list of topical treatments in preparation for Friday’s procedure. I have not worn my contacts for almost a week, which is required even before the consult so make sure you get the details from the office since it can affect vacations and social events if you are interested in LASIK.

And just in case you were curious about all the steps involved in the process, there have been a few.

1) consult with my routine eye physician. He did lots of measurements and mapping. Then he referred me to the specialist.

2) Consult specialist, who will have his grumpy and cheerless staff leave you forgotten in a darkened room forbidding you to use your smart phone because they want the eyes dilated. They will only remember you when you peek your head out the door into the glaringly white hallway and catch them gossiping with their friend and their new baby. I was also reprimanded for not being able to both open my eyes really, REALLY wide and go without blinking as she tried to get the machine focused on my eyeball. I confess that if the surgeon wasn’t so nice, I would have left and never returned. A million stinkeyes to the staff at the Eye Physicians, P.C. in Columbus, NE. Oh yes, I am calling them out. I was there for two hours, and 90% of that time was being shuffled from one machine to the next, including the wait in the dark room. Oh! And when the tech finally came into the dark room, she flipped the room’s light switch to full on. Dilated eyes? What dilated eyes!

Here’s a couple pictures I took of the machines I had to stick my face in. In thumbnails, they look like fancy toilets, don’t they? I didn’t get a picture of the Dark Room since I was told not to use my phone… Aren’t you impressed by the fact I obeyed?



3) Surgery (currently pending). I get a valium that morning. Whoot!

4) Next day post op check with my regular eye physician

Ok, so there aren’t a lot of steps, but since I originally started this process in January, it feels like it.

It’s Not Just Forgetting Birthdays Anymore

3:25 p.m. – My cousin calls my cell phone, but I’m with a client so I let it go to voicemail.

3:41 pm – I listen to voicemail. Cousin ran into a friend of Mom’s. Mom dropped off Dad for a doctor appointment and can’t find him.

3:44 pm –  I call Cousin, because what? What do you mean Mom can’t find Dad?? Cousin is on her way back home 25 miles away and asks I call her when I find them.

3:45 pm – I call Friend (who works at the hospital). She says the same thing: Mom said she dropped off Dad for a doctor’s appointment but can’t remember which doctor or WHERE. Friend said Mom can’t even remember Dad’s birthday in order for Friend to look it up in registration.

3:46 pm –  I call Brother. No, he didn’t know Dad had a doctor’s appointment. Call Brother when I find Parents.

4:00 pm – I leave office citing “family emergency” and drive to the hospital’s physician’s offices, which is just next door to my office building. Go inside and speak with registration to see if they can locate Dad in any of their offices. I should note that Dad’s been seeing a lot of doctors lately. He had a pathological crushed vertebra in January. Clerk calls Security as I explained that Mom is out driving around godonlyknowswhere looking for Dad and she has Alzheimer’s. We’re on the look out for an elderly couple. She’s driving an old white cadillac. He’s likely wearing a cowboy hat. Later I’ll discover I was half-right with that description.

4:10 pm – I start driving around the hospital’s and the adjoining offices’ parking lots looking for their car.

4:27 pm – I call the farm. Maybe they’ve found each other since the original phone call and are both home, safe and sound. No, neither of them have a cell phone. No answer.

4:36 pm – Brother calls. Have I found them yet? No. I update him on what I’m doing. He informs me they’re in the Towncar. I do another parking lot sweep.

4:41 pm – I call the farm again. Mom answers!

“So you found Dad!”
“What do you mean, ‘No.’??”
“I couldn’t remember what doctor’s office I dropped him off at so I left.”
“You just left him in City and went home?? How was that suppose to work, Mom?!”
“I don’t know.”

4:43 pm – Text message from Sparring Partner: “Your mom just called me. She’s looking for you. Wants you to call her right away. All she said was I don’t have [Dad]. She said she doesn’t know where he is.”

4:45 pm – I head back to my office. Just for shits and giggles I go next door to my office to the office of the urologist. There stands Dad at the front desk. He was no more than 50 feet away from me this whole time! He sees me and asks what I’m doing there. He is not wearing his cowboy hat today.

No more than two hours after they went missing, I drove Dad home. He said he would never have thought she’d forgotten where he was. She had dropped him off and wanted to run errands since she was in the City. She finished shopping and then simply forgotten where she was to return. It’s a small city, a close community. We were lucky.

This time.