Skip to main content

Baby Shoes

These are my foot prints made soon after I was born. I weighed 7 lbs.-5 oz., was 20 1/2 inches long and had a head circumference of 13 1/2 inches. Dr. McCoy Pitt officiated, but I suspect it was a nurse who inked my little toes.

I found this certificate in the magical music cabinet, which is considerably smaller than my mother's cedar chest. Her trunk sits at the foot of her bed, and she keeps things like our baby shoes, some old photographs and tiny sweaters in it. There aren't many shoes left in it, though, because my father got a hold of some of them years ago during his electroplating phase.

He set up what looked like a creepy science laboratory in the basement with a tank of acid and bottles of ooze which he used to bronze anything and everything. He electroplated baby shoes so people could keep them forever—sometimes they would be mounted separately on book ends or sometimes together on a stand with a commemorative plate. They looked like this when he was finished:

In the 60s when I was born, you couldn't buy cute little flexible baby shoes—people thought you had to harness baby feet in rock-hard white things that slapped on the floor when a kid tried to walk, better for encouraging strong ankles and proper arches, I suppose, even though all those little bones hadn't even fused together yet. But then what does nature know.

My babies wore little, suede moccasins or no shoes at all when they were really little. Later on, I shopped for cute, not for support, but since my father had long since given up his basement laboratory, I don't have a shoe to show for it.

Comments

dive said…
Aaaah, what cute little feet you had, Robyn!

And wow! You really had Doctor Mc.Coy? That must have been before he joined Starfleet Command and got a job on the Enterprise.
I wonder if he used a tricorder on you?

Bronzing shoes is weird! That must be a US thing; we don't have it over here.
I still think your pink plaid Converse shoes were the coolest I've ever seen.
Ahhhh sweet Robyn!

Yes mine had those suede mocassins too - in blue! Then we progressed to very soft leather booties, then shoes.

I have absolutely no idea what I wore.
I too think the bronzing thing is a little freaky.
Bronzing baby shoes is creepy or freaky? No way!

More sentimental mothers are having their baby's first shoes bronzed today than ever before.

They're having baby sneakers bronzed, too...and they look terrific!

I may be a bit biased...but check out this website

www.abcbronze.com

Worth a look. :)
savannah said…
i remember seeing my baby shoes, but for the life of me i have no idea where they are now...thanks for the trip down memory lane, sugar! ;) xoxo
Er...no thanks Mr. Shoe Guy, it's not for me. Each to his own, though, hey.
Ahhh the things we could electroplate,Robyn. That's really some music chest you have there - I can't wait to see what pops out of it next.
MmeBenaut said…
Oh that is so cute Robyn. Fancy being so loved that your father would bronze your shoes and they were cute too. I don't find it creepy at all.
I wore those white shoes as a child and have one or two photos of them, that's about all. My father wasn't a sentimental person - somehow I don't think he ever got over the fact that he had 4 girls instead of a football team of boys to whom he would have been much more suited.

Popular posts from this blog

Happy Birthday...

to me! Update: Since you have asked, I only got one actual packaged gift, a beautiful hand-made bracelet from a friend, but both girls were home for the weekend, and we had dinner at the lake and a relaxing weekend. Thanks to all of you for your lovely wishes!

My Sitemeter is All Bloated and Not Quite Itself

I'm tempted to let it sit on the couch with its feet curled up under a blanket, a hot cup of coffee in hand, a block of cherry almond bark Chocolove within reach, and An Affair to Remember spinning in the DVD player. I'm one of those obsessive bloggers, the kind who checks her sitemeter as often as possible throughout the day, the kind who gauges the quality of her writing by the number of readers who regularly stop by. I've become less interested in the overall number of hits and more interested in the number of repeat hits. The return visitors are the ones I long for. When my sitemeter reads forty at the end of the day, and the majority of those hits are webpals who have conversed, I'm happy. Forty may seem low to many of you, but I've only been at this since August. To me, forty is a jackpot. A few days ago, I sat down at my laptop and discovered a number somewhere in the eighties. Eighties! Yippee! Yeeha ! Hoo-rah ! I've been discovered by the webworld , o...

Ish People

Tell an Ish person to show up around 9 a.m., and you'll see them somewhere around 9 a.m. Tell them to show up at 9ish, and you'll see them anywhere from 9:05 to 9:20. You have given them license to dilly dally, and who wouldn't take advantage of that? The other night at the big shindig dinner party, one of the drummers said the rehearsal the next morning would begin at 9ish. "I am an ish person," he says. Immediately the clanker goes off in my head--oh, good, I thought. I can deliver my daughter a little late. No Ish person is early, so if you say 9ish, that does not mean give or take 5, 10, 15 minutes. It's exclusively a taking phrase. Take an extra 10 minutes to drink your cup of coffee. We won't mind. We're Ish people. Sunday's rehearsal started at 2:00. Because it was conducted by the same people who conducted the Saturday rehearsal, my understanding was 2-ISH. My daughter is worse than I am about taking liberties with Ish time frames, so she d...