Fool Me Once, Shame On You, Fool Me Twice...

Baby shoes. You think they are cute, innocent little things. Especially the athletic ones for boys. Oh, little sneakers! How darling! Hah!

On a Sunday three years ago, I handed Sammy off to my friend Andrea while I managed primary (Jay was on call...my friends are great!). He was rather fussy but Andrea doesn't stress out easily so I wasn't overly concerned. About thirty minutes later, however, she came and got me and said that she could not calm him down and was a little worried about him. With a heavy sigh, I went and got Seth out of nursery and went home to deal with a cranky baby.

But he wasn't just cranky. He was sobbing. And very red. I was worried that something was seriously wrong after listening to him cry for ten minutes (the mom alarm was going off) and knew that it was more than being tired, hungry or wet.

I decided to take him to the ER and left Seth with my neighbor. I figured if he calmed down on the drive then I could just turn around and come home (car rides soothed Sammy). But during that fifteen minute drive, his pain seemed even more severe and I worried that perhaps he had appendicitis or something that would require emergency surgery. When I looked in my rear view mirror, I could see his head thrashing on his car seat. Thinking of his fear and pain, I started to cry myself.

The triage nurse in the emergency room asked me all of the pertinent information, checked his temperature and blood pressure and needed to take his pulse ox. I took off one shoe so he could put the gadget on his toe and listened to Sammy scream. I was flustered but at least felt justified that he was still clearly in pain and that I hadn't brought him to the ER on a whim or in a moment of over protection. The nurse led us to one of the ER rooms and gave me the instructions to undress Sammy so that the physician could do an exam. He shut the door and I took off the other shoe.

The blood immediately rushed to his heel where the flap of his shoe had been cutting into his skin. His scream turned to a whimper and then disappeared all together as I finished undressing him. Crap. It was just his shoe. I was mortified and wondered if I left if they would still bill me. They had already taken all of our info though so I felt trapped behind that door. They'd know either way.

At that moment, Jay rushed into the room (I had left a message for him on his pager) and saw the now red crease on his heel.

"Was it his shoe?" he immediately asked (I think even before a "Hi. How is he?")

"Um....I think it was. I'm so sorry."

I was so embarrassed.

The doctor walks in and both of us explained that our child's two hour agony was most likely the result of an uncomfortable shoe. She chuckled, said lots of kids come in pain and it turns out a piece of hair was wrapped around a toe or something that the parents overlook. She did an exam anyway. Nothing was wrong with him. She even printed out the record of our visit and on Doctor's instruction it says, "beware of the nasty shoe!".

That really cute four dollar pair of shoes cost me a hundred and fifty dollars.

Fast forward to today. Henry, Sam and I were headed to the children's museum to meet Andrea, KariAnn and Lara and all of their kids. I was running a little late and couldn't find his Robeez that he usually wears so threw on a pair of Nike sneakers without socks (there were none to be found!). He was completely fine for the hour and a half that we were there but started to get really ornery as were were getting ready to go. I moaned about how this is what he's been doing for the last three days, how I don't know if he has another ear infection or if all of the screaming is because his top molars are hurting. They listen sympathetically and agree that he's not acting like himself.

I stop in Nordstroms to get some make-up (Shiseido has a great foundation, I've been out for three weeks and looking quite ruddy) and he's inconsolable. Several women ask me what is wrong with him and I explain that he is teething. Lots of "poor baby"s but I am about to scream I am so frustrated. On the drive home, Sammy wants to tell me a story and I shout at him that I cannot listen to anything else. My brain will explode. Henry's crying is all I can handle. When we get home, I rock him for a while. I start to think that all of this pain cannot be merely teething pain and that he must have another ear infections. Drinking a bottle doesn't help soothe him and I decide to change his diaper just to cover my bases. On his changing table, I take off his shoes so that they don't end up lost (like the Robeez) and as soon as I touch the laces he screams even louder.

An old familiar feeling rushed over me. Not again! I took off the shoes and both of his little bare feet had creases all over the top of them. But his scream turned to a whimper which eventually turned into a smile as I sat and fed him a bottle.

Beware of the nasty shoe!