Happy Hair Day
The sun is rising now, a beautiful gradient of warmth blanketing the horizon! So beautiful. I am always amazed at how a sunrise or a rainfall influences my emotions. This week has been mostly made up of chilly rain, perfect really for springtime, but I am so glad to finally see the sun. As I write this I am also IMing with Lisa, and we were just reminiscing about our early morning sunrise runs so long ago.
Anyway this week: Computer crashed. I'm waiting for my new computer to arrive. This week has been spent fixing my laptop and backing up files...lots of time.
The boys started baseball, although most practices were rained out. Ethan pitched an inning, and as he said afterward, it didn't go so well. But he came up with some ideas for practice, which is great! He had a single, popped it out once, and struck out once. Christian plays his first practice game on Saturday. Let baseball season begin!
And then there's the hair story. My Christian LOVES his long hair. He's a cool kind of kid, the kind of kid who will always be hip. We call him our California boy because he always looks like he could be on a surfboard at any given moment. Sun-bleached hair in the summer, sharktooth necklace, flip-flops...that's Christian.
Well, since I couldn't see his eyes on Tuesday (the hair a little TOO long), I insisted upon trimming it up, RIGHT THEN! He was okay with this, and before long we were set up with a towel draped around him, hair damp (I've seen professionals do this), scissors in hand.
He was a bit squirmy, I was a bit distracted, and the scissors took a rather unattractive turn on his bangs. I was horrified, but it looked funny too, and so I started giggling. He immediately was suspicious and demanded a look in the mirror. I told him to wait until I was done (holy cow, what do I do now?) before looking in the mirror, but he insisted, I told him no, and we ended up ON THE FLOOR wrestling it out. He won. Mirrors don't lie. He was devastated, to say the least. I quickly sent out an SOS to a friend. Unfortunately she wasn't home, so I found myself on YouTube searching for "how to cut a boy's hair." Who knew there were so many informative home-grown videos on the subject!
Fortunately, as I was about to follow the YouTube instructions, I connected with my good friend who gives good hairuts. Yea! But there was a problem. Christian REFUSED to get in the car. After begging and pleading (I realize I am the authority, but....) I finally bribed him and said, "What do you want? I'll give you whatever you want if you get in the car!" Well, he's no fool. This was a rare proposition! "Cake. Cake for dinner." "Done!" I proclaimed. An hour later we were back home with a half-decent haircut with strict instructions to let it grow all summer long (don't touch it, Amy warned me).
The next night we sang "Happy Hair Day To You" over a vanilla caked with whipped cream and lots of pink candles (the only ones in the house). The pictures were delightful! They will definitely come in handy when he grows a teenage attitude and I need to bribe him (Yes, mom, I know Dr. Dobson would not approve, but I'm not talking about my finest parenting moments here).
And that's it. We end the week with this bright, sunny day, a welcome sight after the rainy days.
Anyway this week: Computer crashed. I'm waiting for my new computer to arrive. This week has been spent fixing my laptop and backing up files...lots of time.
The boys started baseball, although most practices were rained out. Ethan pitched an inning, and as he said afterward, it didn't go so well. But he came up with some ideas for practice, which is great! He had a single, popped it out once, and struck out once. Christian plays his first practice game on Saturday. Let baseball season begin!
And then there's the hair story. My Christian LOVES his long hair. He's a cool kind of kid, the kind of kid who will always be hip. We call him our California boy because he always looks like he could be on a surfboard at any given moment. Sun-bleached hair in the summer, sharktooth necklace, flip-flops...that's Christian.
Well, since I couldn't see his eyes on Tuesday (the hair a little TOO long), I insisted upon trimming it up, RIGHT THEN! He was okay with this, and before long we were set up with a towel draped around him, hair damp (I've seen professionals do this), scissors in hand.
He was a bit squirmy, I was a bit distracted, and the scissors took a rather unattractive turn on his bangs. I was horrified, but it looked funny too, and so I started giggling. He immediately was suspicious and demanded a look in the mirror. I told him to wait until I was done (holy cow, what do I do now?) before looking in the mirror, but he insisted, I told him no, and we ended up ON THE FLOOR wrestling it out. He won. Mirrors don't lie. He was devastated, to say the least. I quickly sent out an SOS to a friend. Unfortunately she wasn't home, so I found myself on YouTube searching for "how to cut a boy's hair." Who knew there were so many informative home-grown videos on the subject!
Fortunately, as I was about to follow the YouTube instructions, I connected with my good friend who gives good hairuts. Yea! But there was a problem. Christian REFUSED to get in the car. After begging and pleading (I realize I am the authority, but....) I finally bribed him and said, "What do you want? I'll give you whatever you want if you get in the car!" Well, he's no fool. This was a rare proposition! "Cake. Cake for dinner." "Done!" I proclaimed. An hour later we were back home with a half-decent haircut with strict instructions to let it grow all summer long (don't touch it, Amy warned me).
The next night we sang "Happy Hair Day To You" over a vanilla caked with whipped cream and lots of pink candles (the only ones in the house). The pictures were delightful! They will definitely come in handy when he grows a teenage attitude and I need to bribe him (Yes, mom, I know Dr. Dobson would not approve, but I'm not talking about my finest parenting moments here).
And that's it. We end the week with this bright, sunny day, a welcome sight after the rainy days.
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