I was so worried this would happen again. And until the very end of my pregnancy, it seemed unlikely.

My feet have grown another half size.

If I weren’t already sure that the baby is the “third and last” child, as I’ve said ad nauseam, this would be the final straw. Because I’m having to get rid of the vast majority of my shoes, just like I did when the 10yo was born. [Yes, she's 10 now. It's been a busy few weeks here at Fixin' Supper.]

Some of these fit. Sort of.

Even my list of shoes that still fit is fudged. The clogs and the duck boots really do fit. The brown heels sort of fit. And the sandals don’t really. But I LOVE those sandals, and they don’t hurt, so I’m going with them for the rest of this summer, anyway. Meanwhile? Every single other pair of shoes has got to go.

First to be replaced: The Sauconys. Then, some black heels. Then I guess I should buy some brown heels that really fit, instead of just sort of. And I’ll be praying for lots of rain this summer so I don’t look too stupid in those duck boots.