These are from this fun shop:

Scarlett put on her best stomping shoes and met her realtor.  These shoes always had prevented her from making any rash or bad decisions.  The heels could audibly mark her path or twist on a squirming victim.  The toes were just right for denting shins – including a warning flash from the shiny studs – or for pointing her the right way.  There was a lot of power in her stomping shoes.

I'm intrigued by this lovely shop and can't wait to see what comes next:

And she needed it.  The realtor was an old family friend who took Scarlett to the best brightest most upscale apartment on the books.  Scarlett adored it!  Brand new, tres moderne!  Without her shoes she’d have been charmed into a downpayment or lease.  The three women needed to talk about their stylistic and geographic expectations first.  All the details around sporadic rooming were easy.  Luckily they were in no rush.

About AngelaLTodd

I am queen of the helicopter parents. But there are enough of us that we are becoming a social problem. Here’s my story. Thing 1 was coming, they couldn’t stop him, it was only 24 weeks and 3 days. Someone asked: should we try to save him? Well, yes. Yes! Ten days later, a team of doctors closed the door behind us to explain brain bleeds, sepsis, meningitis. Shall we pull the plug? Well, no. No! Babydaddy laid hands on him every day, massaged him when he was ready. For the three months he was in intensive care, and the three weeks at an intermediate hospital, I would get up in the night and pump breast milk, thinking about my baby across town. Babydaddy delivered it every morning, earning the name “milkman.” It was funny. We had every therapy going for as long as possible: early intervention, the intermediate unit, private therapies. Terms multiplied: sensory processing dysfunction, sensory integration problems, orally defensive, auditory sensitivities, comprehensive developmental delay, cognitive function impairment, retinopathy of prematurity. He did occupational therapy, physical therapy, speech therapy, play therapy; we consulted with a neurologist, school psychologist, wraparound service provider, developmental specialist. He worked with an occupational therapist for a year and a half to tolerate teeth and hair brushing. Not surprisingly, parenting didn’t feel natural. I learned to read to my baby watching Phyllis, our physical therapist. Voices, commentary, labeling colors, counting… she was very good! Merging professional research skills with my genetic propensity for silliness (mom was class clown, dad’s distantly related to Lucille Ball), my mothering style came together. Eventually. But I still channel Phyllis on occasion. Thing 2 was full term. They are complete opposites; she is a sensory seeker with a wild sense of adventure and an inventive sense of fashion. Keeping them both busy and happy is an exasperating and sweet challenge. I still believe that every day can be fun and educational while reinforcing kids' boundaries. I’m on a mission to save us helicopter parents from ourselves. No more bubble wrapped kids and guilty parents. Let’s teach them coping skills. Let’s get fun.
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2 Responses to Scarlett

  1. orples says:

    I love that second photograph, both the building and the perspective from which it was taken. Beautiful! 🙂

  2. Isn’t it cool? And I love how the patterns curve in both pictures. Thanks for reading!

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