A Battle Not Worth Fighting

If you know me at all, or even if you don't, you may have guessed that I am a control freak.  There.  I said it.  I.  Am.  A.  Control.  Freak.  I will be the first to admit it, because I have to deal with myself every day.  I am working on it, and I'm trying to give things up that just don't matter to anyone else but me.

Take shoes, for instance.  I have given up my control of shoe shopping for the kids, and let my husband handle it.  The kids love shoe shopping with him because they get whatever they want.  They know there is no way I would let them come home with some of their selections.  They come home with shoes 3 sizes too big, or one size too small, but I have to remind myself that I gave up that control.

There have been several occasions where I would have persuaded my daughter to choose a different syle of shoe.  She is 99.99% tomboy, but when it comes to shoes, she picks the gaudiest girly shoes she can find.  I don't understand her thought process.  But it works for her.

These are the shoes she came home with yesterday...

Vinyl high tops?  For summer?  What was she thinking?  What was my husband thinking?  These shoes never would have made it out of their box if I had been there.

Don't they look like clown shoes?  Especially since they are about 3 sizes too big.  Her toes barely make it past the bottom of the tongue.

But she likes them and thinks they are the coolest shoes she has ever owned.

And that's all that matters.

K