Wordless Wednesday

I feel ready to discuss my hair now

I'm vain. I'll admit it. I will say that in the last ten years or so I've stopped caring as much about how I look because mainly I've accepted that I just can't defeat the aging process. And I totally screwed up my skin by sunbathing without sunblock for so long. Also, I sunbathed with baby oil. Not good.

However, my hair has always been something I loved. Don't get me wrong. I have a complete love/hate relationship with it. I love it because it's thick and curly. I hate it because it's thick and curly. My hair is a little high maintenance. Hence the ponytail you will see me sporting on most occasions. I was also born with a cowlick in the hair that goes across my forehead. Therefore, I've never really gotten along with bangs. I love the idea of them. It's just that whenever I get bangs they don't lay flat across my forehead. They end up parting in the middle and who wants that?

Anyway, I decided that since I knew exactly when Emma was going to be born I was going to look good for the birth pictures. The pictures we have of Jake and I right after he was born are horrid. I'm bloated, my hair's a mess and I have at least three chins in all of the photos. So, I thought, this time I'll put on makeup and get my hair done and be all cute! Well. You can see how that worked out for me. Especially since I totally sweated off all of my makeup and the fluids they gave me before the surgery bloated my face to exponential proportions.














I made an appointment to get my hair done the day before our c-section. The owner of the salon called me about an hour before my appt. and told me that the girl who does my hair was no longer working for them as of that afternoon and could she reschedule my appointment for a later date with someone else? So, I explained how I was having a baby the next day and I really wanted to look cute for the pictures and she offered to cut my hair for me that day. She also graciously offered to give me a discount on the haircut! Turns out what she meant by discount was that she would charge me what the other girl normally charges me. How nice. Apparently the owner is a "master cutter" and normally charges $25 more than what her apprentices charge. So, clearly I was getting a bargain. I was also grateful that someone who had the hair cutting force so strongly within her would be handling my hair.

When I got to the salon, we had a discussion about my hair and the direction I wanted to go with it. I told her I would like to go in the cute direction. Basically, I wanted her to do my hair like the other girl did it. Short layers around my face, thin it out a little and don't cut off too much length or else I end up looking like a poodle or a Christmas tree. Plus, I absolutely have to be able to put it up in a ponytail because who are we kidding here, I'm not going to be "fixing" my hair every single day.

SO, imagine my surprise when I look up during the haircut and see her cutting bangs straight across my forehead. We had not discussed bangs at all. I had told her that I liked a little shorter layers around my face and to part my hair on the side to try to conceal some of my ginormous forehead. But I had not told her to give me bangs to conceal aforementioned forehead because I know I have a cowlick and bangs don't work on me. When I mentioned the cowlick to her (post bang cutting) she just said "oh, you can retrain that cowlick." Sister, you can lead a cowlick to the forehead, but you can't make it stick.

And now I have bangs. I haven't had bangs in at least fifteen years. I really hated them at first. I hated them so much that I thanked the lady for giving them to me and tipped her fifteen percent. I really need to learn how to take a stand. However, it has been six weeks since I was introduced to these bangs and now I kind of like them. At the very least, they hide the deep horizontal lines that have appeared on my ginormous forehead the last few years. Which I'm gonna say makes me look younger. What I don't like now is the rest of my hair. It just kind of hangs in my face which only further promotes the ponytail wearing. See what I mean?



Yet, totally cute with hair in a ponytail.






To sum up the whole Hair Saga '09, I have to say I've come away from this experience being pro bangs for awhile. But I am in need of a good stylist to fix the rest of my hair because this shag cut really only looked good when Janet wore it on Three's Company back in the seventies.

Wordless Wednesday

What in the world have we gotten ourselves into

Emma is going through a really fussy period right now. Thankfully, Amy volunteered to babysit yesterday so I could have a few hours to myself while Jake was at school. This was a much needed break and I felt like a new person when I went to pick up the kids later.

I had the most fun perusing the aisles of Target with my Starbucks mocha in hand. After Target, I headed over to Steinmart and found some non-maternity clothes that fit. I didn't even care that they're a size larger than what I normally wear. It just felt good to try on clothes that fit. I also got to go to Old Navy, Borders, and I went and had my eyebrows waxed. Wow! I haven't spent this much time and energy on myself in at least a year. It was so nice that last night I didn't really mind when it took forever to get Emma to sleep.

And I think those few hours of freedom are what's getting me through today. As I write this, I'm feeling like nothing more than a walking, human pacifier. I really wonder if the word Binky is written across my forehead. Emma woke up at 5am for a feeding which is pretty normal. What is not normal is that she wouldn't go back to sleep. Not until 9am. And then she just slept for an hour and a half. The rest of the day has been pretty rough. If she's not nursing, she's crying. I'm worn out. My boobs have taken on a shape not commonly seen in nature. I'm seriously considering bottle feedings from now on. Selfish, party of one, your table is now ready.

I love my baby but I have to say I'm counting down the days until she hits three months. That seems to be the magic age where everyone says things will get better and babies are able to get on some sort of schedule. Also, the non-stop crying is supposed to stop at three months. So, the way I see it, we have six more weeks until some sort of normalcy returns to our household.

But if it turns out that three months isn't the magic number then I may need a few more hours to myself for another day of shopping. By then, I figure I'll be over the clothes and looking for something more along the lines of a good margarita making machine.

Our house is a very, very, very fine house

We find it hard to believe that in a few short months we'll have our first brand new house to move into! Once the builders got started the work has gone really fast. We've already met a couple of our neighbors who all seem very nice and enjoy living in the community. We also got a picture of Jake in what will be his new bedroom. Very exciting!

Photo Friday?

Mama's need to stick together

This morning I went to drop Jake off at school. One of the moms of a baby in the class I taught this year happened to be walking in beside me so we started to talk. She asked me how I was doing and I said "good" and then she said "well, you look exhausted." Now, she wasn't lying. I am exhausted. Emma still needs two middle of the night feedings and they last anywhere from thirty minutes to an hour. Not to mention the fact that the past two mornings Jake has decided to wake up at 6am instead of 7am. So, yes I'm not getting enough sleep. Is any mama of young children getting enough sleep out there?

My point is that I was a little offended she said that. Even though it was completely true. Sometimes you just want people to lie to you and tell you that you look great. Just like I was lying when I told her that I was doing good. What I should have said was something like "well, i haven't showered in over 24 hours, I've been wearing the same spit up covered pants for three days now because nothing else fits, and I'm seriously questioning everything I thought I knew about parenting." I mean really who wants to hear all that when they're asking you how you're doing? All they want to hear is that you're fine. Right?

Or maybe, just maybe, if I had not pretended that everything was perfect, and I had just told her the truth she would have felt empathy for me (she has four young kids herself). Perhaps she would have even admitted that her life is nowhere near perfect and that she's had days where personal hygiene took a backseat to crying kids, housework, or locking herself in a closet somewhere to get a quick nap or scarf down an entire bag of Hershey's miniature candy bars.

Why do we all feel the need to make it look easy when raising kids is really, really hard? Somedays I really just want to let Emma cry it out in her crib. Other days I really just want to hold her while she sleeps so I can look at the cute little dimples on her hands. Plus, that's the only time I get to see the sweet little drunken smiles that she makes in her sleep. It's hard to find any sort of balance in your day when you have to choose between reading "If you give a pig a pancake" for the eight hundredth time or tackle the mountain of laundry building up in the bedroom.

I think it's time for mama's around the world to unite and stop pretending that this is an easy job. It's hard. And from now on if you're brave enough to tell me I look exhausted when you see me, then I'm going to be brave enough to tell you that things aren't always "fine."

I need a time out

Jake got sent to the principal's office for the first time Monday at school. It seems he was hitting, tackling and growling at his classmates all day long. I couldn't be more proud. I was really hoping the growling thing was something he only does at home. I think I jinxed us last week when I asked his teacher if he had beaten up on any kids lately and she looked at me like I was crazy. She said he was the sweetest little boy and she couldn't imagine him being mean. I told her about him hitting his friends from our play group upside the head every chance he gets and she was shocked. Well, it seems he's taken his street behavior back to the classroom now. Apparently, at one point he tackled two kids simultaneously who were just sitting there reading books. All the while growling at them. I'm pretty sure that's one of the ways to make friends and influence people.

So his teachers reached the point where they couldn't deal with him anymore and they sent him to see Miss Kathy the head of the Mother's Day out program. Now, Ms. Kathy is the sweetest lady in the world unless she's having to deal with unruly kids. I believe she put the fear of the Lord into Mr. Jake because when he went back to his classroom after visiting with her and proceeded to hit another child, all his teacher had to do was say "Do you want to go see Ms. Kathy again?" He stuck out his lower lip and said "No." From that point on, they didn't have another problem with him.

Please understand that this child is the smallest kid in his class. I'm not sure if this is some sort of Napolean complex or what. I'm just really hoping he doesn't turn into that little kid from The Christmas Story who terrorized the entire school along with his braces wearing buddy. I don't know what to do. I didn't even get to shower today so you can see how much time I have to actually spend thinking about parenting. I know from teaching this age group last year that sometimes kids just misbehave. I just never thought it would be MY child. He's supposed to be sweet. Like his mama. Like his mama who growls out of frustration on a daily basis when something doesn't go my way. Oh my. He gets it from me. He gets it from watching me. Except for the tackling part. I swear I've never done that to anybody. And if I did tackle someone, it would be because they stole my chocolate or something. Not because they were sitting innocently reading a book. I mean, that's just unreasonable.

Because mama will kill me if I don't put up some pictures

Jake and Emma and I spent most of our Easter Sunday here at home listening to the rain and looking at each other. It was very exciting. When Mike got home from work and Jake woke up from his nap we headed over to our neighbors house to go on a good old fashioned Easter egg hunt. Jake loved it up until the part where he decided his diaper was so dirty we had to go home to change it. Here are a few pictures of the hunt. Yes, that is our child looking through his Easter basket with no pants on because the diaper rash was indeed very bad. He had to go commando for awhile last night. I'm sorry to say I didn't get a single picture of Emma yesterday. Even when I put her cute little bunny hat on her! I just didn't have the camera handy and I am a horrible mother. I am posting a picture of her in her jammies that remind me of an Easter egg though. So cute! And yes, that is Mr. Crab (Prabby) in her lap. Jake truly loves his little sister. He shares all of his precious treasures with her.

Things that suck

We finally got moved into our new although temporary house. It's huge with too much space for us but it sits on four acres and Jake and Brady have loads of room to roam around on. All I'm going to say about the move itself is that moving sucks. The end. Thanks to friends and family again for all of your help. Rob and Chantal, you guys went above and beyond the call of duty. I know, I said duty.

In order to get back our deposit on the old house, we had to have it professionally cleaned and we had to get the carpets professionally steam cleaned. Mike found a lady at work who supposedly cleans houses for a living. She agreed to clean the house for $150 to $175. Seems a little steep, but if you call the big cleaning companies around here they'll charge you more than that. Now, the place was a mess because we all know that I stopped cleaning at least two months ago. However, when I went over to see what kind of a job she had done, I was so disappointed. The stove was still a mess. The baseboards and windowsills had not been cleaned. The bathrooms were not up to par. Basically, she did a good job vacuuming and that's about it. I didn't want to pay her the full $170 but of course we did because Mike knows her and all. The carpet cleaners locked all of the deadbolts in the house on their way out which means no one can get into the house because the keyless deadbolts were also locked. It's going to cost us $100 to get someone to break into the house now. Apparently, the dog did some damage to the back door so that will be coming out of our deposit as well. From what I can tell, it's costing us at least $600 to move out of that darn house.

Finally, let's go back to the carpet cleaners. When I went over to the house to let them in they were very friendly and introduced themselves to me and started chatting. Next thing I know one of them is looking at me and he says and I quote, "Let me guess, about five months right?" I was very confused. Was he asking me if we had lived in that house for five months? That's when he patted his tummy and said "You're about five months pregnant right?" Oh, mister, no you didn't. Father forgive him for he knows not what he does. So, I said "Uh, no. I had a baby four weeks ago." Awkard silence. Birds chirpping in the background. And then he gives me this big smile and says "Oh! I'm sorry. Congratulations!" I have never wanted to kick someone in the teeth so bad in all my life. He just took all of my insecurities and put them right out there in the open.

What was he thinking? Doesn't he know you never assume someone is pregnant? As my BFF Amy said, you should never ask a woman if she's pregnant unless you see a head exiting her body. At least I think that's what she said. It was kind of hard to make out her words through all of the giggling and snorting going on. Perhaps I shouldn't be wearing yoga pants and tank tops so soon after giving birth. I was going for comfort and easy nursing access, but it looks like I'll have to pull out some baggy pants and large t-shirts to make it through the summer in so that this doesn't happen again. I am still really insulted. I know I'm still swollen and yes even a little fat, but there is no way I look five months pregnant right now. Four months maybe, but not five! I'm going to go lick my wounds now and eat a plate full of chocolate chip cookies to make myself feel better. Peace out.

Death of a Salesman

I really thought the door to door salesman had gone the way of the dinosaur. You know, extinct and all. Is this really a relevant profession anymore what with actual stores you can go to and cars you can use to drive you to those stores? Not to mention online shopping people. Who doesn't like sitting in their pj's in December buying Christmas gifts online? It's the best! Isn't that why Biff what's his name killed himself in "Death of a Salesman?" Yes, I'm pretty sure that online shopping killed Biff. My literary prowess is amazing. But all I'm trying to say is, we don't need door to door salespeople anymore. I'm sorry, but it's true. If this is your life's dream then I'm begging you to find a new one. Perhaps something in the health care industry.

Anyhoo, some of you may remember our trouble a few months back with the Kirby vacuum cleaner salesman. Well, let me just tell you that a week after Emma was born, I was introduced to the Eco Orange cleaner salesman. His name was Carl and he made me long for the Kirby guy again. Actually, I don't even know if that's the real name of the product. But I do know it had orange in it and it was some sort of house cleaning product. And I'm sure the guy's name was Carl.

These are the facts and they cannot be disputed. Carl showed up at our door when Emma was like five days old during the hours of 1 to 3pm. Do ya'll know what those hours are? Yes, those are nap time hours for people with small children. He rang the doorbell of all things! Who would do that during nap time?! The doorbell triggers a Pavlovian response in our dog that just cannot be unlearned. The barking! It's unreal. I literally have to grab Brady by the collar and throw him in the bathroom whenever someone comes to our door.

So, I've got two sleeping kids which is a miracle because 1.) Jake didn't fight me on nap time that day, and 2.) They were both asleep at the same time. The doorbell rings causing the dog to bark at the top of his lungs which causes me to bust a move to the door to stop all the racket before someone wakes up. If you are recovering from a c-section, you should never bust a move. It hurt.

When I opened the door and saw Carl there with his bottle of cleaner in hand I have to say I was just mad. But I let him ramble on a couple minutes about what a great product he had going on. Then I saw him unscrew the top from the bottle and take it off so he could lick the little sucker tube thingy inside. That's right. He licked it. To show me that this product was perfectly safe to have around kids and pets. Well, what a relief! I've been looking for cleansers that are also safe for snack time.

I politely told Carl that I wasn't interested in buying his cleaning product and that I had two sleeping kids in the house who were trying to take naps right then. He said, "Oh, I understand" while he was pulling out a black sharpie from his pocket to WRITE ON OUR FRONT DOOR WITH. So that he could show me his product can take black sharpie off of doors. Again, what a relief. Now I can make my shopping lists on the front door. At this point I had to ask Carl to leave. It was very reminiscent of the Kirby guy. And like the Kirby guy, Carl declined my offer. So instead of asking him again, I told him to leave. Carl actually stepped closer to the door like he was going to come inside and while I was slamming the door in his face I heard him saying "See that huge stain on your carpet?" Um, yes, that's the stain that the Kirby guy never got out of our carpet the last time he stopped by. Goodbye, Carl.

Thoughtless Thursday

In conclusion...

So after the battle of the naptime stars yesterday I finally had fifteen minutes to myself where Emma was asleep and Jake was at least being quiet in his room. When Mike got home fifteen minutes later I asked him to go upstairs and check to see if Jake was asleep. This is what he found. Asleep at last! Just not in his bed.