On my Spring break, I had lots of fun. I went to neat places and had fun. I think Spring break is the funest break, except for Summer break, which is funner because it’s a lot longer. I wish I could have Spring break every month-
Who am I kidding? Spring break fun wasn’t as fun as I would have liked it to be.
Why? Let me tell you.
First off, it wasn’t my Spring break, as I’m not in school, it was T’s and Mom’s. I was really glad that both their breaks fell on the same week. Mostly, I was excited because that meant the T could spend the night over at the folk’s house several nights and I could sleep in.
Apparently D didn’t get that memo. She was up every morning by 7:30, alert and cute and ready to play.
I had also planned to break D of the habit of waking up 2 times a night to nurse. Yeah, she didn’t go for that either. There was a lot of screaming, pleading, crying and begging-mostly from me- during the night.
So, my hope of getting a whole bunch of extra sleep so I can stop walking around like a zombie was a total fail. I think D feels bad for me, though. Last night she only woke up once and the night before she slept all the way though. Hopefully, this will start a trend.
Then, just in case I’m not already stressed out, T decided to try to kill herself this past week.
Now, before you call CPS, my 4 year old is not suicidal, just accident prone and curious.
First off, I caught her on Monday brushing her teeth. Now, she loves to brush her teeth and we encourage that. But this time her definition of brushing her teeth was putting a big blob of toothpaste on her brush and then brushing just enough to get the toothpaste into her mouth so she can eat it. Luckily, I caught her before she had had a chance to consume enough of the toothpaste to make her ill. I can’t let her go potty by herself yet, apparently.
Then, I blew it in my lecture. I was explaining to her how the toothpaste will make her sick if she eats it, and how she needs to spit it out. Well, now she’s terrified of getting sick on the toothpaste! The next day I had to brush her teeth for her and every two brushes or so, I had to stop so she could spit. It took twice as long to get half the brushing done. I finally had to get her her own toothpaste so she wouldn’t be scared anymore. We normally have children’s toothpaste for her, but we had run out about a month ago and she likes the minty taste of ours, so I thought I could save a few bucks.
So, now she has Little Einstiens toothpaste and all is well in the toothbrushing world again.
That was her first attempt.
The second one came early Wednesday morning. She had spent the night at the folk’s on Tuesday, so I was only slightly surprised at the call form my mom in the wee hours of the morning. I was, of course, already awake, playing with my adorable early riser.
The first thing Mom says is that T has swallowed a steel marble.
So, off to the doctor we went to make sure the ball had made it to her stomach. We took x-rays and found it there, in her tummy. The doctor said to watch her and check her stools for the ball. If it wasn’t out by Friday, we were to take her back in.
Well, swallowing the thing scared T. And she was scared of it coming out too. So, her little four year old mind figured if she didn’t poop, then she wouldn’t have to worry about it, right? So, she didn’t eat much and refused to go big potty. This was resulting in a very cranky T and a rather cranky me too. I finally had to force feed her prunes Thursday night to get her to go. It worked, but there still was no little ball by Friday morning, so back to the doctor we went.
Another x-ray showed the ball in her colon, so the scare of it coming back up and chocking her was over and now we could relax. T relaxed too. After that first poopie, she realized that going when she had to go was better than holding it in. So, she went the opposite way. Now she gets all excited and wants a little mini party for every poop.
We did find the steel ball, by the way, and are keeping it to show her first boyfriend.
That was attempt number two.
Saturday, we caught her trying to “make dinner” She was using a bowl of strawberries, hot water and Goo Gone. The Goo Gone was put up out of her reach, but she’s getting smart and managed to get it down. At first I freaked out. The Goo Gone stuff smells really good and I was afraid she’d eaten it. She assured me she hadn’t, but I smelled her mounth and breath to make sure. There was no tell tale orangey smell there, so I relaxed a bit. We kept a close watch on her for the rest of the day to make sure she didn’t get sick, though.
I have learned this week that my child is not to be left alone for even a moment.
So, if that’s not enough to mess up a perfectly good Spring break, I remembered this past week that my birthday is in a few weeks and I’m turning 32!
I realize that if you are older, 32 sounds pretty good. But remember when you turned 32. 30 and 31 you atill have the novelty of bring out of your 20’s. By 32, the novelty has worn off and you’re just “in your 30’s”.
It didn’t help that I looked at myself in the morror and realized that I looked like a soccer mom. (apologies to all soccer mom’s out there. It’s not a bad look, but not one I’m going for) So, I did what any person would do.
I went and got myself a fabulous new haircut. My hairdresser de-soccer-mom-ed me for sure.
Now, before I reveal the new me, I would like to give you a little background history on my hair. When I was a little girl, I had long wavy golden brown hair that was pulled up in pigtails and I was adorable. The only problem was that I have fine hair that’s prone to tangles. Remember, this was the late 70’s early 80’s and they didn’t have detangling shampoo and sprays back then. So, every morning was a fight for my mom to get my hair brushed. Finally she’d had it and cut it off.
All of my pretty hair was gone and I went from being and adorable little girl to being an ugly duckling. It didn’t help matters that I was already a bit awkward and tomboy-ish, so I didn’t have the know-how to make a mullet flatterning. My mom didn’t have the know-how either.
So, our daily brushing fights turned into daily hair styling fights. My mom liked the feathered look and I was totally against that. My solution wasn’t any better, I must admit. Remember, tomboy, not a good combo with a mullet.
Anyway, when I was in my freshman year of high school, I finally convinced my mom to let me grow my hair out. Now, you must understand that she cut it in the second grade, so I went for many, many years with bad hair. You know what that can do to a girl?
Anyway, I started growing my hair and didn’t stop until it was down to my waist and all one length. It was very pretty and I was finally proud of my hair. I braided it on my own and would do all kinds of neat braids and buns. But, when I wanted to look good, I’d blow dry it straight and wear it down. And, because I was kid-less at the time, I had the money to go get it colored and trimmed every few weeks. Here is the best picture I could find. I’m quite a bit thinner in this picture, but, weren’t we all a bit thinner before kids?
Pretty, huh? I had my hair like that from when I was about 17 to a few weeks before my 30th birthday. At that point, I realized that I had had the same hair style for over a decade and, since I was hitting the bog 3-0, I figured it was time for a change. Plus, I had gotten into the bad habit of pulling it back into a ponytail. Small kids, you know…
I couldn’t go too drastic, though. Long hair had been what I was for such a long time, I had to make the transition gradually. So I went with this.
And I loved it! I was certain I would dislike it and grow it all back, but I fell in love with it. I thought it was so much more flattering to my face, I didn’t look like a little girl anymore and it was stylish. Plus, I saved money on shampoo. ;o)
Each time I went into the stylist’s, it got a little bit shorter. Until I was finally like this.
Now, as you can see in this picture, I had gone back to my natural color and things were a little sloppy. Having a baby to take care of often means you’re lucky to walk out of the door with clean hair, forget about styling it. So, I got into the habit of just letting dry how it did or pulling into a little pony tail. It worked for that first year when D took up so much of my time and sleep. But, as I said, I’m coming up on my 32nd and realized I’m a frumpy, overweight mom.
The overweight I can’t fix overnight, but the frumpy I could. I had always wanted some fierce wacky style, I’ve always loved the short spiked pixie look. My face is a bit too round for that look, though, so we went with this instead.
Disclaimer: The picture is bad taken on my phone. Also, I’m still learning how to do it. I tried several times to get a better picture, but I’m just not good at taking pictures of myself. Here is another one.
This one’s a little better in the style, but the picture quality is terrible.
But, anyway, you get the idea. I L-O-V-E my new hair! I can’t get over how much I do. And what a change in just two short years, huh?
Now, to work on the overweight part…