When we were first married, my husband worked part-time at a department store.  He used his employee discount to buy me some good tennis shoes.  I really needed some, and I used the HECK out of those shoes.  I really did.

In truth: I haven’t bought a new pair of athletic shoes since then -over five years ago.  It was all a money issue.  I mean, when you have to choose between diapers for the children or shoes for your feet, you’re going to choose diapers every time!  Trust me!  I bought new shoes between then and now.  Sort of.

I bought a pair of flats on clearance at Wal-Mart.  Of course, I bought The Old Lady shoes from Savers.  Um.  There has to be more, but I honestly can’t remember.  I should go check my shoe rack and see, but that would require getting up nothankyou.

This story might have ended all right and good (if you push the whole “fashion” idea out of the picture as only buying shoes every five years is something much less than trendy).  BUT I happen to have arches so high they rival The Eiffel Tower.  About a year ago, the nagging pain that pinched in my knees when I got on the ground to change the kids’ diapers started coming around more often.  Every time I bent down, my knees wanted to sock me.  Every time I got up, they wanted to stab me… to say NOTHING of what they thought about my climbing stairs.  Ow, ow, ow.

My husband sat me down on the couch Friday night and forced me to list what needs to be done to get my young body acting it’s own age instead of a grandmother’s age.  I didn’t want to, honestly.  I don’t like spending money on myself when we need a new bed so badly.  But when he looks at me like that -all concerned and worried -I can’t help but give him whatever information he requires.

New shoes, I told him.  New shoes with arch support.

My Granny, I told him.  My Granny and her reflexology treatments.

More money for the food budget, I told him.  A little more money to pay for things like healthy peanut butter and DoTerra oils.

The very next day, he drove me into the city and bought me a pair of good shoes.  Then he bought me gel arch support insoles.  Then he bought me arch supportive socks.

(granted these are those shoes that are supposed to tone your buttocks while you sweep the kitchen, but I didn’t buy them for that. I bought them because their comfort level is off the charts.)

I’ve taken these shoes off to sleep, shower, and attend church.  That is it.  I’ve felt an immediate difference in the knee pain.  It’s still ever-present, but it’s manageable.  This gives me hope that it will continue to improve!  I wore them until almost midnight a few nights ago and really rather considered sleeping in them.  My husband noticed me walking around the house and pulled me over to him.

“Don’t EVER go that long without taking care of yourself,” he said, seriously, “I promised to take care of YOU before we ever had kids.  You need to let me keep that promise.”

I got in trouvle, as my son would say.  Instead of saving my family money, I’m actually costing them more.  Why do we learn things the hard way, eh?  I guess that doesn’t really matter.  What matters is that we ARE learning.

And I will be buying new shoes sooner than later.



  1. I buy shoes far too often; not at the insistence, but rather to the chagrin of my husband. I earn the money, I should be able to purchase the shoes. The thing is, I only really wear 3-4 pair consistently, and the rest of them wait for that “special occasion” that only rolls around once a decade. As a side note, I recently got some of those tushy-toning shoes in flip-flop form, and I love them. Very comfy, I agree (and they were only $10, which makes them even better!).

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