My mom has been in town for the last several days, and it has been overall really nice. Sure, she can be a little pushy sometimes, but I can’t complain as she cleans, organizes, and makes us dinner, in addition to providing encouragement and an extra set of hands for the babies. Though she’s as happy to hold, chat with, and gaze adoringly at her first grandbabies as the next person, my mom is also a very practical person. She didn’t rush out from Chicago the moment they were born, because she knew that wasn’t the time she could be the most useful to us. No, she wanted to wait until they were home, so she could help us take care of the house (and ourselves) while we took care of the twins. She’s all about helping me get things in order and get my feet under me, so that I can hopefully handle things on my own when she leaves and my hubby goes back to work.
One of the things she has been pushing is getting me out for walks. It’s part c-section recovery, part practical dog care, part preparation for getting out of the house when it’s just me and the babies. Friday was my first real walk in months, as I had even stopped taking the poor dog around the block by early July. It was tiring, but felt good. I did realize that I needed to finally wear something other than my standard flip-flops, however. They had been my only option for several months as my feet swelled to frightening proportions, but the swelling has finally almost completely gone, so the time had come to wear socks and sneakers for the first time in about four months.
This is when I discovered that one of those many strange things about pregnancy has actually come true. My feet are bigger. I pulled out a pair of sneakers that hadn’t seen use since the weather in Boston broke 55 degrees and I started wearing sandals full-time. I shoved my feet in them, and found my toes noticeably jammed up against the inside of the shoes. I knew that larger feet were possible, but I also couldn’t quite remember if these were the slightly-snug pair of sneakers before I was pregnant.
Oh well, time for a trip to DSW for a new pair of walking shoes, since I was determined to make walks with the babies a regular part of my routine. I used to be a size 8.5 or 9, depending on the brand, so I grabbed a 9.5 to accommodate my new flippers. My toes were smooshed. But this was a brand I didn’t usually wear. Surely, they must run small. Better try some others. Four pair later, and there was no denying it. I was most comfortable in a size 10 shoe. Holy crap.
Even still, I’m not convinced they’re 100% comfortable. I’ve kept the receipt and will try to walk around the house in them. It’s probably just due to the fact that I haven’t worn real shoes in so long. It’s also possible my feet are a little swollen yet, and I just don’t notice because it’s such a dramatic improvement over what they were two weeks ago, so maybe I’m not really a size 10. Wishful thinking.
