Shoe-ly you Must be Kidding

It’s been a while since I posted about shoes.  It’s not that there haven’t been shoe-nanigans a foot (Ha! Mom would have loved that one Juj).  It’s just that I’ve been a bit preoccupied with myself lately.

Generally, you can judge my mood based on my choice of shoes.  Hightops? I was willing to commit to the extra effort needed to get my non-bending foot in the shoe.  Not an easy task.  It also means Aaron has not stolen all of my socks.  Low top Converse or my Vans – I recognize the need for shoes but I just can’t totally commit right now.  Flip flops? I HAVE to wear something… No shoes? That can best be described as I have no intention of getting out of the car.

Lately it’s been flip flops or nothing.  Basically, if I have to put on shoes, the answer is no.

The pile of shoes on my porch has grown.   Aaron was asked to clean his room and he did.  Only problem is he bagged up everything as “trash”.  Fearing the worst, I went through every bag before they were disposed of.  I came away with MULTIPLE pairs of perfectly good shoes (including several pairs that were basically new).  For some reason, they are all still on the porch.  I probably should do something about that.  Tomorrow.

The singles are still there as well, including a few additions.  On a recent trip to the Converse store I discovered that they take old shoes and grind them up to make playground surface material.  How cool is that?  Have I taken them down to add them to to the collection box?  Nope.  But I saved this picture on my phone to remind me.

Because the pile of shoes that I literally walk past multiple times every day isn’t a big enough reminder?

For as long as I can remember we’ve had a basket at the front door to collect shoes.  We’re just not a big shoe wearing family and generally the first thing we do is SHOES OFF.  After years of being annoyed with the overflowing basket of shoes (mostly mine – not going to lie), Eric bought this monstrosity.  I FREAKING HATE IT!  Don’t get me wrong, he meant well but… If I could figure out another solution I would.  I swear, as soon as these boys move out, this thing is going, too! And notice, most of the shoes are near it, not on it. Also notice – there is at least one lone shoe there. That would be Aaron.

And, to top it off, the basket is still at the front door.  Actually, the shoes have begun to migrate over.  Apparently, they’re not a fan of the rack either.

Yesterday, Aaron showed up at my office during the break from his dance class looking for food and water.  “Mom, will you drive me back up to my class?” No… wait, where are your shoes?  He left them in class and walked across campus barefoot.  90 degrees plus outside.  Asphalt the whole way.  Dumbass.  Why does he keep doing this????

While we’re talking about Aaron, he got a new job and he’s already planned out what he’s buying with his first check.  Shoes (high heeled drag shoes, but still, shoes.)  The boy who can’t remember to wear shoes is spending his entire net worth on shoes.  It would be like me opting for raisin cookies.  Insanity.

There’s currently a pair of blue seude-ish high heeled boots on my pool deck.  Isn’t that where you keep yours?

It’s not just Aaron though.  Anthony’s taking ceramics over the summer.  Yesterday – “Damn it, I forgot closed toed shoes.” Today, I specifically asked him if he had his shoes before we left.  “YESSSSSS.” Complete with eyeroll.  I even suggested to him that he keep a pair of Aaron’s porch shoes in the car on the off chance he forgot again.  Narrator: indeed he did not have his shoes nor did he put the extras in the car.  As Juli says, “This is me not caring.”

Last week, WWIII broke out over… shoes.  Anthony is convinced that Aaron is stealing the insoles from his work shoes.  Aaron witnessed the dogs eating said insoles (he didn’t stop them but that’s another issue).  We’ve all witnessed the dogs eating insoles and shoes and socks…  I found one of the insoles in the backyard with a guilty looking dog nearby AND the shoes in question were literally chewed on.  Apparently, the dogs like shoes WAY more than the rest of us.  Did any of this abate the fight? Nope.

A week later, I am sure he’s still harboring resentment over Shoegate 2018. Likely because the outcome of his fight with Aaron was a side battle with me that ended in him walking the 2.5 miles to work when I pulled my car over with an ultimatum to let it drop.  Walked to work no big deal.  With no insoles?  You’d think after 19 years he’d know that when I say, “Don’t make me pull this car over”, you should take that shit seriously.  I would have even stopped at the store and bought him replacement insoles if he wasn’t being such an ass.

For the record, if Anthony had used Eric’s  damn shoe closet, the dogs likely would not have eaten the insoles/shoes.  I’m not saying it’s not needed.  I’m just saying it’s an eyesore and I hate it.

So friends, I’ve already kicked off my flip flops for the night. And no, they’re not on the rack. They’re actually in a whole other pile nowhere near the front door. Yeah, I have issues.

Being the [Drag] Queen Mother

If we’re FB friends you probably know that Aa has jumped with both heels into the world of drag. It wasn’t much of a stretch for my attention seeking performer to combine his loves of dance, costuming, and makeup and take it to the stage/runway.  Aaron’s been choreographing his own numbers since he was about 5 including costumes and props, this is just another venue for him to explore.

After a few short months, he has a following, a small entourage, and the other night he was assembling back up dancers.  He’s working on becoming InstaFamous.  I have no doubt that will happen.

There is nothing about the drag culture that doesn’t appeal to him – it’s literally as over-the-top as you can get.  And well… that’s just Aaron.

Being a DQM is not always easy – especially when said mother is battling serious anxiety.  1) Aaron is a slob and I find his shit EVERYWHERE.  The bathroom. UGH! 2) I don’t wear makeup or do my hair.  I wear jeans or yoga pants and flip flops or Converse EVERY DAY – glamour is not my thing.  Never has been. 3) Frankly, I worry about him going out.  Every day I read about people being shot or beaten because they are different.  I don’t want my son or his friends to end up another statistic.  4) He steals my stuff.  ALL of my glitter, rhinestones, sequins, and feathers have disappeared from my office.  “Well you weren’t using them.” Yeah, I kind of was.  5) He’s broke and drag is costly.  6) Songs on repeat.  7) There is glitter freaking EVERY WHERE!

But, it’s pretty fabulous, too.

He’s living his authentic self.  He’s found an outlet for his creativity.  He’s pretty damn good at it.  He’s learning to be resourceful – even if that means pilfering my craft supplies.

Last month, I took him to DragCon.  WAY outside my comfort zone because SO MANY PEOPLE.  But we had a blast.  He got to meet his favorite queen, Miz Cracker.  He walked the runway.  He was repeatedly complimented on his homemade eyelashes – crafted from junk mail. #dragonadime

Monday night, I got to see him perform live on stage for the first time complete with deathdrops and two leaps into the splits.  ALL DONE IN HEELS!  The talent in that room was a-maz-ing! It was awesome seeing the crowd cheering and oohing and literally in awe of MY KID.  The judges commented that the boy can DANCE – he’s going places! He’s got work to do, room to grow, a look to develop, and moves to smooth out.

Me, I’m still trying to come to terms with him coming home with a stack of singles (tips).

I can’t help him with makeup or fashion, or let’s be honest, dance but there is something I DO know a bit about – marketing.  The plan is to start building a social following, somewhere he can share his tips & tricks for creating on a budget, promote his appearances, and eventually build a brand.

More than that though, I can just be there.

I scream about the mess, and where did THAT come from when you have NO money, and stop taking my craft supplies, and turn down the music, and FREAKING glitter everywhere, and…

But I also listen to his Drag Race recaps.  I TRY not to go down the dark hole of fear and worry every time he goes to the club.  I am “mom” to the extras that come through the house that don’t have that kind of support system at their own homes.  I go and yell and clap and proudly let people know he’s mine.

Acceptance starts at home.

So what’s on the horizon for the diva dude? College classes in dance, makeup, theatre, fashion design, and costuming.  So far, he’s done most of this with zero training – imagine what he can do with some professional guidance? WOW – just WOW!

And for the Queen Mother? More trips to HM’s that’s for sure.  The vibe was fun and the Happy Hour menu made for a cheap night out with friends, and well… DEEP FRIED TWINKIES!  Yeah, I’ll be back – even if it is a bit late for this old broad.  Next time, with all the amazingly supportive people that can’t wait to cheer Luna on.

Now if we could just get the glitter under control. Seriously, it’s FREAKING EVERY WHERE! #craftherpes

Follow Aaron and/or Luna La Fierce on Instagram

Guard Dude 1 or “How I Became a Band Mom”

I married a trombonist. A proud high school band geek.  Early in our marriage he played his trombone for me. My reaction? SO LOUD. In the closet his horn sat.

Years later, in hopes of another generation of Herchenroeder horn players, Anthony played trumpet in the elementary school band. Two. Long. Years. Then he wisely decided sports was more his (and my) thing.

J never had interest in music; for him it was science and nature.

Then came Aaron, and E’s hopes for a band kid were rekindled. (After all, this is the kid who taught himself how to play the piano watching YouTube videos.) So, when he came home from school the newest member of the Osos Regiment, we weren’t really surprised. But it wasn’t music that caught his attention, it was guard.

And just like that, Los Osos had its first male guard member in school history. Guard Dude 1. And I became a Band Mom. Yay.

Looking back, it totally made sense. He’d been choreographing his own dances for years. Costumes? Kind of his forte. Center of attention? ALWAYS.

So here we are 3 years later. He’s the most accomplished member of the team. He spends most of his free time spinning, tumbling, leaping,  choreographing, dancing. He has his own arsenal of sabers, rifles, and flags. He’s one of the only male guard members in our fairly large school district.  Guard and dance are EVERYTHING!

Marching band is definitely not my thing. But it’s Aaron’s (and Eric’s) so I sit proudly in the stands trying to keep track of where he is on the field.

I’m pretty proud of him. Not because he’s good, that’s not even debatable, but because he bucked the stereotypes, shot down the Mean Girls (and boys) and followed his passion. I hope someday he understands how truly amazing that is.

Most of the time, Aaron doing what Aaron wants is a challenge for the house. (To say the least.) But that determination and self confidence are also the character traits that will propel him to great heights. Keep leaping for the stars, Bug.