Life With Socks

It is really no small feat getting three kids out the door in the morning, on time especially. Nyah to school and the youngest two and I to the gym. No, I am not on some major New Year's resolution kick off, I have been a regular member of the gym pre resolution season. Promise. 


Since Nyah has returned to school and the morning routine is back in action, we have had a few bumps in our quest to get back in the groove. 


And I am sure you know what I am about to write. I think it is a complaint of mothers and fathers generations old, but I am just coming head to head with the problem. 


Socks. 


I am really not into letting things get the best of me, especially inanimate objects, but oh how I loathe socks.


It's the same old story, I wash two, at least I think I wash a matching pair, yet only one makes it out of the dryer and the pile of orphans builds. Then morning comes and no one can find a matching pair, someone cries, I get frustrated as my arm begins to burn from carrying my big boy around as I frantically search for the lost match, seconds away from being late. 

And the lost sock always lies the most inconspicuous of places, especially since Elsa can only take about ten minutes in the car before she takes both shoes and socks off and tosses them. This from the girl who didn't wear shoes, much less socks, until she was a confident walker. She can't be tamed. 

I guess we are just not a sock, nor shoe family. Next to our door we have a basket where we dump our shoes the moment we walk in the door. Probably an old island habit, but a necessary one I feel, especially when little ones frequently occupy the floor. Shoes are dirty, its a fact.

And though it is so tempting to think back on a time when we didn't own socks and flip flops ("fliddy flops" as Nyah calls them) and sandals protected our feet, I can't let myself go there. Because socks are here to stay. 

So my vow today is to, one, stock pile mass quantities of socks in my kids' drawers so a matching pair is always just a reach away. Second, I will put a sock basket next to our shoe basket so each and every sock has a home as soon as they leave a little foot. And finally, I promise to not let the socks get the best of me, allow me to become frustrated ever again, or be the source of my child's tears. 


Because socks are too tiny an object to evoke such big emotions.


By the way, if you didn't already click on the link above, click here to watch some of Elsa's first steps. You won't be sorry.