Grocery Store Feet

Many moons ago, when my husband and I first started dating, we were still learning each others’ quirks and nuances — as any new couple would. Chris quickly learned of my affinity for walking around barefoot at home, inside and outside - a foreign concept to him. I never thought anything of it, but Chris would (affectionately?) tell me I had “grocery store feet”. I had never heard of such a thing, but apparently its a description for dirty feet. As in, “your feet are so disgusting, you must have walked around the grocery store barefoot”. I don’t think my feet were ever that dirty, but I digress.

Now, this may seem like the silliest, most mundane, and even unhygienic concept. Dirty feet. But for the past two years, my son’s tiny feet have never seen a speck of dirt. Ever.

But, guess what I did today? I dusted dirt off of my son’s foot! This seemingly simple task awoke something in me that can’t really be described with words. My son had grocery store feet! Other cars drove by, none the wiser. On the outside, I’m sure it seemed like a perfectly dull, normal, perhaps even grotesque moment. But inside I was flooded with bliss, because this moment, this task of brushing soil from the earth off the sole of my son’s baby soft, un-calloused feet meant something BIG. We were getting somewhere. Literally.


With about 8 surgeries, countless tests and procedures, and a handful of hospital stays under my son’s belt, our priorities in his development have been laser focused on preventing further of these unpleasant hospital visits. Now that his health has been better under control, he’s been able to spend more time around his family, friends, and peers. He’s watching, observing. He hasn’t had to miss therapy — which is huge. He’s learning. All of a sudden, he’s figuring things out - scooting around, following me, my husband, and other loved ones in unconventional, albeit effective ways. He’s excited to see new things, and play with toys. And best of all, he is motivated to get around on his own. Within a few days of figuring out how to move his baby walker forward - he was zooming towards me at what felt like light speed. (Check my Instagram feed for the videos!) I NEVER thought this day would come. I was at peace with the idea that I would have to move him around for the rest of his life - not that we wouldn’t try our damn hardest to get him independent but, especially if you’re a special needs mom like me, you would understand this juxtaposition of hopefulness and acceptance.

Today, take a moment to thank your feet. Every step you take is a blessing. Take off your shoes and feel the earth under your toes. Run around your house barefoot. Step in the dirt. Never forget the miracle that is grocery store feet.



Daycare or Dialysis

Daycare or Dialysis

"Please Don't Projectile Vomit in Louis Vuitton", and other Humorous Tales of the Medically Complex Life

"Please Don't Projectile Vomit in Louis Vuitton", and other Humorous Tales of the Medically Complex Life