Monday, April 29, 2013

What is in a shoe?

The shoes we wear say a lot about us. Formal, casual, trainer, old, new, shiny or scuffed... Its all right there, on our feet, for the world to see. Since becoming a mother, writer, photographer, planner-of-things, and overseer of general wellbeing and happiness, I have found that I need to wear many different kinds of shoes, but my well-worn and scuffed soviet sneakers are my staple.

Doctors appointments - check
Meetings with my editor - check
Fetching and carrying kids - check
Weekends at the dairy farm - check

I rarely feel the need to put on any other shoes - my soviets are just fine thankyouverymuch!

However, as the name of this blog suggests, I have this sneaking suspicion that in order to parent two toddler boys, my shoes may need to come off completely - at least some of the time. My boys do not take lightly to the need for shoes, nevermind socks! They are happiest when they're barefoot and free to explore without the restrictive nature of shoes. I totally get this.

This blog is about the figurative meeting-of-two-worlds: shoe-wearing-parent and shoeless-children. The concept of it sounds rather simple, but after four-and-a-half years as a parent, I have discovered it to be a little more challenging to find the balance between responsible and playful parent, between earning a living and making a life, and the realisation that there is really no way to be a perfect parent, but a million ways to be a good one.

This is me trying to be a loving wife, a trusted writer, an inspired photographer while at the same time striving to be a good mom. Plain. And. Simple. 

If you'd like to check in on this blog from time-to-time, I will be here with a little something, week in and week out. I'd love to hear your comments and stories of how you balance your life with kids? Being a parent is without a doubt one of the most difficult jobs ever to be placed on the shoulders of adults, it is scary, tiring, confusing, frustrating and ever-rewarding. Our children don't ask much of us, except that we forget about our world for a chance to enter theirs.