Usually, when inspired, I like to dress up in one of my many vintage dresses. If not a dress, then I wear jeans and a vintage sweater. But, on Fridays, everything changes in the footwear department, and I wear a pair of Chuck Taylor All-Stars.
I own four pairs of them. Of course, I can never purchase anything once; I must purchase it several times if I really like it. And no, I’m still not telling anyone how many pairs of shoes I own!
This morning, I was sitting on the bed tying my sneakers. The door to my bedroom slammed open, Iz appeared, and then she threw herself onto the bed but not before announcing that she had another thumb-sucking-free night. I congratulated her, got up to peruse my earrings, and then Iz said, “Mommy, I know what would look good with that shirt.”
She hopped off the bed, and I saw her run off in the direction of her room. Thud-thud-rattle-rattle-shake-shake-“Here, it is!” was all I heard. In a few minutes, she was back in my room holding her large pink plastic heart-shaped necklace.
I said, “Oh, my!” She said, “You should wear this. I think it will look good.” While I was one for making a statement, I didn’t know if I wanted to do it with Iz’s necklace.
“Well, I don’t know if I should wear one of your favorite necklaces, Iz. I might lose it.” She started to undo the clasp and said, “It’s okay, Mommy. I trust you.” Just then, I realized that there was probably no getting out of wearing Iz’s large pink heart-shaped necklace.
She said, “Put it on, Mommy!” I said, “Well, Iz, I was thinking of wearing this one,” as I grabbed one of my necklaces that was more like a period than the exclamation point that Iz wanted to give me. She frowned and said, “I don’t like that. Wear this one.”
I took her necklace, and I put it on. I said, “There. How does that look?” She said, “That looks good. You need some earrings.”
Just then, I was glad Iz didn’t have pierced ears. I was afraid of what she might take out of her room for me to wear to go with this necklace. I turned around to look in the mirror and assess my look; my new look screamed at me, “Someone is wearing her seven-year-old daughter’s necklace from Claire’s!”
I turned back to Iz. I calmly said, “I like it. Thanks, Iz.” She said, “You’re welcome” looking very pleased that she shared and had acted as my personal stylist this morning. But, wait for it; wait for the ulterior motive!
She then said, “Now I get to wear one of your necklaces, Mommy!” She walked over to my bureau and began to peruse my strands of pearls (all fake except for one), my cameos, and my St Francis (patron saint of animals, of course) medal. I said, “Err, um, well, I don’t know,” thinking that none of my necklaces were from Claire’s.
She pointed to one that had a silver chain and attached to it was a large black stone with many lines of different colors going through it. She said, “This one?” I then quickly said, “How about diamonds, Iz?”
I went to my jewelry box and pulled out a rhinestone diamond necklace that I had bought at the flea market. I could see the sparkle of the diamonds in her eyes. She said, “Yes!”
I put it around her neck. She asked, “How does it look?” I knew in an instant that it was so not second grade nor would any personal stylist let her client go to second grade in a purple shirt, frilly skirt, leggings, Bear Paw boots, and an elaborate rhinestone necklace.
I said, “Nah. I don’t think so.” She sighed and glanced back at the necklace she had originally picked out. I sighed, and I thought about it for about five seconds; I had many necklaces, this one had no sentimental value, and it certainly had not cost me more than $25.
While I said nothing, I could see that Iz could hear me thinking when she tilted her head to the side and made a little face that said, ‘Puuuuuuuuuuuuuuhhhhleeeeeease.” I scrunched my face up, and I pulled the necklace from its hanger. She smiled, and I said, “Please be careful with it, and if you need to take it off, put it in a safe place in your backpack.”
She answered, “Yes, Momma!” I put the necklace on her, and then she got up on her tippy toes to glance at herself in the mirror. I looked at my necklace again as I stood next to her; in the moment, we both sparkled, but it really had nothing to do with the necklaces.
While I enjoy many things in life like shoes, the older I get the more I realize how unimportant most of my things are. The most important thing is love, the love from my children, my friends, my family, or even from the stranger who smiles at me after I open the door for her. On any given day, it’s all about the people who want to hang their heart around your neck. ♥
1 comment:
this picture captures the essence of you...
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