Confession of a Shoeaholic.

Warning: There is no point to, moral of, lesson to be learned from this post.

I love to shop. It is a hobby of mine. Sometimes the gathering of items for a project is more fulfilling than the actual project itself.

I think it all goes back to kindergarten. We go to Wal-Mart, pick up our class list, and buy brand new, colorful, amazing, wonderful school supplies and they are JUST FOR US. What a high! I have such fond memories of packing my backpack the night before the first day of school, writing my name (or scrawling, I have terrible penmanship) on all of my new treasures. Sometimes my mom would try to get her hands on stuff first and just write our last name so that it could be shared. Oh no, none of this collective ownership for me, I want to write LINDSAY on everything. My Precious!

I have never been too into clothes or trends, though. I think this also goes back to elementary school. We didn't have a lot of money, and we didn't spend that much on clothes at all. My mom rarely bought things for herself, she sewed for us when we were younger, and we typically only got new clothes a couple of times a year, once before school started and once when it started getting hot. So we got basic stuff, tee shirts, shorts, jeans, tennis shoes, stuff that would last for the rest of the season.

I never would have imagined I would turn into a shoe junkie. But I kinda have.

And not even for myself.

I. Collect. Girls'. Shoes. And, to a certain extent, clothing in general.

My girls' closets are amazing. They have so many outfits, it is almost disgusting. I could put something different on them everyday and not do laundry for several weeks. And they have more socks, panties, tights, bows, clips, barrettes, and headbands than I thought possible.

The shoes, however, take the cake.

Mom: "Kate, go put on your shoes."

Kate: "Which ones?"

Mom: "The sandals."

Kate: "Which sandals?"

Mom: "The white sandals!"

Kate: "But they not match!"

She has no less than 10 pairs of shoes. And she wears them all.

She has flip flops and Crocs for swim lessons and gymnastics, tennis shoes for playing and preschool, brown Mary Janes, black Mary Janes, white ballet flats, white sandals, gold sandals, brown sandals and rain boots. And that's not counting the ruby red slippers from Aunt Sarah or the silver gem ballet flats that are on deck for when her feet grow just a little bit. Or the pink slip-on tennies that I'm saving for this summer when it's too hot for socks but she has to wear closed-toe shoes.

I can justify just about anything.

Meanwhile, little Brookie has tiny little feet, and she is in a different season than big sister was. So the shoes that fit her now are winter blacks and browns, which means "they not match!"

So off to the store we go today, for some new sandals for Brookie, and maybe some for Kate.

I found my Mecca, ladies, it is here in Houston and it is called Rattle Tattle. You only thought I'd hit rock bottom. I tell myself that Brooke will wear her big sister's shoes and clothes. (Eye roll) Poor Tommy, he is in so much trouble.

Oh my "goomess," as Kate would say, Rattle Tattle is like crack for Kate. They sell every frilly, frou frou, girly item you can think of, and all of the adorable boy stuff that Moms and Grammies love and that makes the daddies cringe. One part of the store is tutus and dance wear, then they have all the beautiful smocked dresses that I love, a toy corner for the kids to play while you shop, and right in the middle is the SHOE SECTION. Quincy on Little Einsteins would be saying, "I can not believe it!" Both girls walked out of there with two new pairs of sandals for the summer.

And I will be returning soon for their smocked dresses for Easter. Don't kid yourself.