I had a sudden burst of energy yesterday, which I decided to channel into some spring cleaning. I tackled my closet, and in the process of de-cluttering, managed to unearth my incredible shoe collection, left over from my days as a single girl living in Chicago!
I worked days at a non-profit, and at night, I earned crazy cash as a cocktail waitress. Every six months or so, when Barney's had their huge sales, I would splurge on a pair of designer shoes. Yes- me...the same me who now resides strictly in the land of slip-on clogs and nursing tanks. Shocking...I know!
I absolutely loved dancing in those days, and I could dance all night in these heels. Our nights would begin around 11pm, and last until the wee hours of the morning. The soles of many a great shoe met their demise on the dance floors of Chicago's hip-hop clubs.
It felt so strange sitting on my closet floor, holding these relics from such a long lost time in my life. I started this whole marriage/baby thing at a young age, walking down the aisle at 24, and giving birth to my little one at 27. I made the switch from dancing and Dolce, to diapers and dishes so quickly it almost made my head spin. But I have no regrets. While my nights may no longer be filled with cabs, clubs, and cocktails...they are filled with so much love. I can assure you that no part of me feels like dancing at 5am in the morning when the monitor begins to make a commotion, but when my little guy looks up at me after his feeding, and smiles his precious, gummy smile...there is a part of me that feels like doing a little happy jig.