Under My Stilettos

© 2014 Mit Maras

Under My Stilettos

“It’s official. I’m in midlife crisis. Just went to DSW and bought some hooker heels. I’ve always wanted to learn how to walk in heels. For some reason decided today was the day.”

That was the text sent to my poor friend (who has to endure my daily texts of madness) which started this journey.

I am now convinced that something happens to a woman when she loses her ovaries. At least that’s the new excuse I have for everything. Forced by endometriosis to have a complete hysterectomy at the young age of 37 is not exactly what I had planned. Nonetheless, it’s the catalyst to my current season in life.

Female jock to the core all of my younger and high school years, I was always the tennis shoes and track pants kind of gal. I was well into my mid 20s before I ever went to a nail salon and had my nails done by a professional. Dresses? Pfffft. The only time those were worn was when someone died.

After 37 years of tom-boy-to-the-core attire that covered as much skin as possible due to extreme modesty, the recent loss of ovaries has sent me spiraling into uncharted waters…girly things. With the onslaught of hot flashes that lead to epic mood swings, blue jeans and t-shirts have been traded in for silk, thigh-high summer dresses. Boots and tennis shoes have been traded in for sandals and the ever so cute wedge sandals with heels. Heels…something this chick has never EVER braved conquering, until now.

Just yesterday, while getting my nails done, this intense desire to enter the feminine world and conquer wearing heels struck. We’ve all seen the ladies adorn the dance floor of Dancing with the Stars on heels as thin as toothpicks, and gracefully glide across the floor as if they were dancing on the clouds.  “Hooker heels” (as I have always called them) have become my new quest. Just to give you a little insight as to how little I knew, here is a little snip-it of the text conversation with my friend:

Me: “So are stilettos an actual shoe or is that the name for all shoes like that? Instead of hooker heels?”

Friend: “Stilettos are a type of shoe with a super high heel.”

Me: “Ahhhhhh so hooker heel is the swamp slang for stilettos!!!! Gotcha.”

Friend: “YEP!”

Me: “Awesome. I feel educated today.”

Boy am I relieved to learn stilettos and hooker heels are actually the same thing. Stilettos sound so much more lady like after all.

On the way home, I stopped off at the DSW shoe store. The bright letters designating the clearance section was my predetermined destination. I wasn’t about to spend over $100.00 on a pair of shoes I may or may not ever be able to wear. $24 and some odd change later and I was on my way. The shoes? Well let’s just say as soon as they are conquered, my reward to myself will be an actual pair that I can wear in public. The black shoes are covered in what’s basically heart, tear drop, and star jewels that are as fake as a young girls’ jewelry making kit. The heels themselves? A dark, silvery metal color with designs to make them look like dragon scales. The scales earned them a huge smile of approval from my 8 year old son. What can be cooler than being the mom with dragon shoes to an 8 year old? I may break my neck in them, but at least I’m the cool mom now.

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That is how this journey begins. With my dragon scale stilettos (no longer hooker heels), I am off on a journey to conquer the heels. If you’ve never conquered the heels, now’s the time…go and buy you a pair and join along. If you are one of those cloud gliding heel wearers…enjoy the laughs and remember the pain. LOL Either way, women of all walks can laugh and enjoy the journey.


© 2014 Mit Maras

Gentle Giants

Gentle Giants

© 2013 Mit Maras

Any lover of Great Dane dogs will tell you their breed nickname of gentle giants is an accurate description. All you have to do is Google information for the dogs, and you will quickly read of their gentle and loving nature despite size. Pictures of the enormous dogs standing protective beside toddlers, half their size, are favorites of mine.

A somewhat secret wish of my husband was always to own one of these magnificent animals. I have gladly admired them from afar…living in someone else’s home. Not mine. Not until now.

Recently, my husband lead a fellow worker to Christ. Somewhere along that man’s search for God, the topic of Great Danes arose. He owned a pair of Great Danes that had just given birth to a dozen puppies. My husband shared with him his lifelong wish of owning one of the magnificent creatures, and that is where this new chapter of our lives began.

Oil field men are a special breed of men themselves. My husband’s biceps and shoulders are larger than some women’s thighs. He doesn’t tower others by any means, but his nickname Moose lends some insight into his size. The other guy, my Moose-of-a-husband, calls…massive! The joy it brings me to picture two rough and tough oil men sitting around talking about Jesus and puppies is simply immeasurable! They, themselves are gentle giants!

All this leading to my current journey….the backseat of a minivan. One very excited six year old sitting beside me, separated by a sleeping 9 week old Great Dane…on my favorite blanket. The two day trip that split up a 19 hour drive is one most normal people would have never made. And that was just to get there. Thank goodness we are not normal. With our trusty GPS guiding our way, back roads of the beautiful New Mexico frontier have become our playground. A new blanket of snow, highlighting an already perfect sculpture of God’s beauty poured out onto Earth, makes a backdrop of heavenly inspiration.

One of the highlights of my journey came at 5:30 this morning, when two gentle giants bonded on the floor of a hotel room. My son, exhausted from all of the excitement, slept through it all. I dozed in and out for about three hours. The times I was awake, I saw one of the gentlest giants of a man lost in pure bonding and love with a baby of a gentle giant breed. As they played in the predawn hours, a soft glow from the bathroom illuminated their playful silhouettes. There was something magical witnessing the eternal bonds of these two gentle giants.

There were no burdens of the world weighing heavy on his mind or his chest. There were no whines and cries from a puppy missing her canine family. There was a bonding of two spirits that’s as pure as the crisp white snow blanketing the ground around us. The simple question their playful banter at 5:30 in the morning left me with was….who….saved who?


© 2013 Mit Maras