Boot marks on the ceiling

I am a hopelessly addicted thrift store shopper. Claire will tolerate it if she's looking for something specific, but Elizabeth is right there with me, browsing through piles of junk, searching for the occasional treasure that makes the trip worthwhile. As she's gotten older, she's refined her technique and won't ask for things unless they really fit, are useful, and she truly wants them. One day we came across The Rain Boots. She loved them immediately. They were a little big, but that's better than too small. The price was right and I agreed to part with the four dollars.

She wears them any time there is a hint of rain. They were great at camp where the kids tromp in the mud regularly. She continues to love them, even after a year. But even good things can be used for bad. And that explains the footprints on her bedroom ceiling.

Fall is always tough for her. I blame the shorter days and the high incidence of food dye holidays on top of her already debilitating anxiety. And so in a fit of temper and distress, she lay on her sister's top bunk wearing her rain boots and repeatedly kicked the ceiling. Visitors were surprised and bemused by the footprints on the ceiling. They've probably never seen footprints on the ceiling. And I know there are those who think that if I would just (fill in the blank), I wouldn't have footprints on my ceiling. But they would be wrong because they just can't comprehend the level of pain that can only be relieved by kicking the ceiling.

Finally her godbrother came over, climbed up on the top bunk with her, and taught her how to use a Magic Eraser. She did so happily. She really doesn't want footprints on the ceiling. But the boots are in timeout for a while. I know—boots don't make ceiling marks, children wearing boots make ceiling marks. But the marks from sock feet are far less noticeable. It's already something Claire and I snicker about. I have a host of resources to help me teach Elizabeth better ways to deal with that inner turmoil than kicking the ceiling. And I hope in time, she'll be able to shake her head in wonder and say, "Do you remember the time I kicked the ceiling? What was I thinking?"

photo by Claire