For sale: baby shoes, never worn. · 8:31pm Jun 4th, 2015
You all know that story, right? You're all connoisseurs of fiction with an Internet connection, you've probably run across it. Attributed to Hemingway, probably erroneously, it paints a whole little tragedy in just six words. For sale: baby shoes, never worn. It's sad. It assumes to imply sad things. So, let me tell you a story about that story.
My daughter was my mother's first grandchild, and naturally she had a whole pile of presents in the form of mostly clothes waiting for her before we'd even left the hospital. My mother makes clothes, and has enough Internet savvy to search for patterns to download and print, so there were lots of neat little matching outfits with several parts that were (and I can say this with the safety of knowing she's never going to read it) the most fucking impractical things ever. Imagine a pair of novice parents with maybe five hours of sleep between them fumbling with buttons that are easy to slip through the eye when you're just holding the top but suddenly double in size when trying to get the thing to stay on a wailing red ball of flesh whose only recourse is utter and unending fury when something has gone wrong and, being so new to the world, finds a lot of things wrong.
Needless to say, we didn't use many of the clothes my mother made. They were very nice and very nice gestures, but they might find a better home on dolls that never get mad when you try to put their arm in a sleeve.
So anyway. All the outfits came with shoes. All of them. Little cloth shoes. And they never fit. I don't know what website my mother was finding these patterns for, they all seemed to be for triangular babies with stupidly broad shoulders and tiny tiny feet -- maybe she was printed them warped or something, maybe my daughter has big feet, I dunno. And we kept being perplexed at the inclusion of the shoes, because obviously it would be a good half a year or so before anything resembling walking might happen, and it was the middle of winter and the shoes had all the insulation of a sieve. Oh, oh, and one more thing on top of that. I'm sure that those of you who haven't had experience with very small humans up close are aware, on an intellectual level, that we grow the fastest in our lives during the first six months or so of life, and I am also sure that those of you who have experienced this will be able to attest that fresh babies grow like well-watered weeds. It's fast. Stupid fast. Growth happens overnight. Not an exaggeration.
And it just struck me one day, deep in the fog that surrounds small babies, how utterly ridiculous it was that that six-word story was meant to be sad. Baby shoes. Baby shoes. Babies don't need shoes. Why would you buy your baby shoes? Of course they were never worn -- my daughter had a fucking drawer full of baby shoes that were never worn. Baby shoes. The idea is hilarious. They can't walk. Why do they need shoes? What a stupid idea, baby shoes. There's no reason at all to be sad over such a stupid idea.
In vaguely related and equally personal news, I've started on some anti-depression meds and they kick ass. Medication is by no means the solution for all mental problems, but it sure does feel like it's the solution to mine; in just a couple of days it's been enough to get some perspective on just how much of a prickly anti-social asshole I've turned into in the last few months, and I've snapped back to a much better version of me like someone let go of a rubber band that was pulled too tight for far too long. Leaving the house is fun instead of a big hassle. If I spend a whole nap doing nothing productive at the computer I'm not ripping into myself about it for the rest of the day. I have the balls to post something that reveals more about who I am as a flesh person sitting on a couch typing these things with their laptop than I think I have for years. Everything's the same, but the person observing it all is coming to a different conclusion. For sale: baby shoes, never worn -- it's not sad any more, but absurdly funny.
Because cute, I assume
You are an amazing person, I enjoyed this a bunch. I'm really glad to hear you and your daughter are doing well.
I don't think I've explicitly commented it yet, either, but weekly stories from you again is <3. This season has been nailing it, but I'd go as far as saying your follow-ups are still my favorite part.
Baby shoes are so you can take pretty pictures of your baby wearing a sailor suit, and it isn't a proper sailor suit without shoes. Those baby shoes never being worn is sad because it means we don't have any cute pictures of that baby wearing a sailor suit.
Duh.
And congrats on feeling better!
Glad to hear things are on the up and up with you! It's good to hear that those with such problems as yours can overcome them.
And, of course, all the work you've been producing from it is a treat to see.
Huh. Never thought about that before. Good luck raising that bundle of fleshy stuff that will someday look like you!
Woo! I'm glad to hear the depression is losing its grip. A good friend of mine also recently started some meds which have been really helping them, so it's always a relief to hear the good news from anyone. :D