I bet you didn’t know I used to be a model; had a pretty regular gig, too. My showbiz mom would get the call, drop everything, brutally yank me from playtime with my friends and rush me down for my fitting. I didn’t mess around either; most days, they had me in leather and suede. Sometimes there would be tassels. Always, there would be men. I can still remember the office – 1970s decor… itchy orange and brown upholstered couches.

Then one of the men would start poking and prodding me to see how everything fit… sometimes, if the size was too small, the leather would leave marks on my skin.

How does it feel, he would ask. Can you move around comfortably? Too snug? Give it time, it will stretch. Do you like it?  Yes, my dad knew all the questions to ask.

Boy, to be nine, again.

I do miss those moccasins.

It was fun growing up with sample-size feet. My dad worked in the corporate shoe world and that meant lots of free samples. Trips to the mall with my dad were fun, too. He would have no problem stopping someone to talk to them about their shoes. He’d even poke and prod them a little. Something about him – people loved to chat with my dad. Still do.

Life as a child model… they even named a shoe after me; my mom and sister, too… but this walk down memory lane is about Kate. Duh.

Because of my dad’s job we moved around every few years. This meant a lot of goodbyes but also many new hellos. You would think it might be a scary experience—and I’ll be honest, the first day of school was always scary, especially at lunchtime when you either sat by yourself or hid in the bathroom to avoid worrying about looking out of place—but we always welcomed the new change. Yes, it was sad leaving our friends. That was always the hardest part. But we always made new friends… usually on day one.   *And now with Facebook, we’re able to revisit those old friends every day.

I’m always hearing about families that have opportunities to try new adventures but refuse to do so as they don’t want to uproot their children from the comfy existence they’ve always known.

I get that. I do. Well sort of.

Actually, to each their own, but if you ask me—and who wouldn’t want my opinion—moving every few years, the way we did, was a great way to grow up and see the world… or you know, Michigan and central New York.   *I feel like I should maybe elaborate on the whole uprooting children thing… but my plane is about to board and I really don’t want to add to it.

That’s it. A little tidbit from my childhood. I know… it has cliffhanger written all over it.

*So kidding about mom brutally yanking me away from my friends…come on people, it’s Mimi.  And, ahhhh! Grammar, Kate!