Sometimes I feel like I’m a broken record. “Don’t touch the walls”, “Wash your hands”, “Stop annoying your sister”, “Put your pants back on”. It’s like being in that movie Groundhog Day. My alarm goes off, I get in the shower, I put my bra/underwear on (that’s as far as I usually get before chaos ensues), and take a deep breath.
About this time, the girls’ alarm has gone off. They are either arguing over who is going to use the bathroom first, or they are giggling their heads off over some inside joke. Either way, it seems to take them at least 20 minutes to get dressed and come downstairs. I feed them, do their hair, brush their teeth (they suck at this), make their lunches, pack their bags, and eventually get myself dressed. On a good day, we get out of the house about 10 minutes late. On a bad, about 20. From the time my first was born, I could no longer be anywhere on time. Either someone has to pee (again), can’t find their shoes, is crying, or simply refuses to leave.
People with older kids always say “Treasure these days. You will miss them when your kids are grown”. I know they’re right. On Wednesday I will put my baby on the school bus. It seems like just yesterday she was born. Soon my girls won’t need me as much. I won’t be the center of their universe. As annoying and demanding as things are at times, it will break my heart to let them go. For now I need to embrace the madness… to hold their hands while they still want to be seen with me.
Friday, September 3, 2010
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
Put down the scissors
I wore my hair either fully or partially up for 9 years. I’m glad that’s behind me.
Back in Junior High, I was so envious of girls with straight hair. I wanted so badly to have bangs that I could curl. One night I decided to cut my own bangs. Boy was that a terrible idea. I gathered hair from way too far back on my head and pulled it down over my eyes. I took the scissors and cut it. Immediately I could tell I had made a huge mistake.
You see, curly hair does not lie flat. Not only were the bangs uneven, but they raised up about 3 inches off of my head. I remember my mom saying “Oh no, what did you do”? It looked like a large animal had taken a dump on my head. There was no way to make the mass of thick, curly hair even closely resemble bangs.
The hair was so short that I couldn’t even pin it back. It stood at attention for months. Finally, it grew long enough to hold a barrette. I went from resembling a cockatoo to slick rick. I went through 4 years of high school without wearing my hair down. I got used to it. It seriously became my security blanket… something that I had control over. After high school I continued to wear it up. Four years of college past and almost no one saw it completely down.
It wasn’t until I moved back to Rochester that I finally let a hair stylist have her way with it. Let’s just say, she changed my life. For the 1st time in along time, I was comfortable with my mane. Sounds strange, but the curls (and my identity) needed to be rescued.
So in case you ever wondered, there you have it. Definitely not one of my smartest moments.
Back in Junior High, I was so envious of girls with straight hair. I wanted so badly to have bangs that I could curl. One night I decided to cut my own bangs. Boy was that a terrible idea. I gathered hair from way too far back on my head and pulled it down over my eyes. I took the scissors and cut it. Immediately I could tell I had made a huge mistake.
You see, curly hair does not lie flat. Not only were the bangs uneven, but they raised up about 3 inches off of my head. I remember my mom saying “Oh no, what did you do”? It looked like a large animal had taken a dump on my head. There was no way to make the mass of thick, curly hair even closely resemble bangs.
The hair was so short that I couldn’t even pin it back. It stood at attention for months. Finally, it grew long enough to hold a barrette. I went from resembling a cockatoo to slick rick. I went through 4 years of high school without wearing my hair down. I got used to it. It seriously became my security blanket… something that I had control over. After high school I continued to wear it up. Four years of college past and almost no one saw it completely down.
It wasn’t until I moved back to Rochester that I finally let a hair stylist have her way with it. Let’s just say, she changed my life. For the 1st time in along time, I was comfortable with my mane. Sounds strange, but the curls (and my identity) needed to be rescued.
So in case you ever wondered, there you have it. Definitely not one of my smartest moments.
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