Archives for August 2010

Do you remember the story of Alexander and his horrible, terrible, no good, very bad day? Well… today I am Alexander. The kids were bickering (I’m sure you read my earlier post, no?). We had a minor crisis involving the fence that we’re putting up in our backyard. And then? When I went to make dinner, I realized midway through that I didn’t have all the ingredients I needed. It’s not as bad as poor Alexander getting gum stuck in his hair, but… little things added up and I got a little cranky.

BUT.

In the midst of all the wonky things that seemed to go wrong, so much is right in my life. I am grateful for so much, like:

My family

Yeah. In spite of the and those crazy-making moments, my family makes me tremendously happy. And they make for good stories. And good hugs.

Creativity

I love my creative mind. I love that I get so much joy from music, from art and photography, from writing. I feel that using that part of my noggin brings me a lot of joy. It also makes up for the fact that I can’t do math in my head.

Good coffee

I am skilled in many ways. I am not skilled in the mechanics of making a perfect cup of coffee so I am so grateful that there are people who can make soothing, rich coffee that is pleasing to my brain.

That whole having a job thing

I am so aware what the job market looks like and how the economy is right now. I may not always love my job, but I’m glad to have one!

Carbs

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: Without carbohydrates, I would be a tremendously not nice person to be around. I know, I know, all that refined white whoosy-whatsit crap is bad for your body – But GUESS WHAT?! That’s why I work out. I make sacrifices in other areas of my diet, or spend more time with my running shoes laced up because I love bagels, cookies and Cheetos.

Laughter

It’s contagious. And even when I can’t find a smile, the sound of my daughters’ laughing? Puts a smile on my face and chills me out so I’m less of a crabby-abby. The best is the unabashed, gleeful, uncontrollable laughter that leaves the laugh-er gasping for breath. Love that.

This lesson on remembering what I’m thankful for was a post written for the Real Zest peeps. Thanks y’all, for inspiring me to be a little bit more glass-half full on an Alexander day.

“MOM! She pinched me!”

“She is playing with the dog, and I want to play with the dog!”

“Get your stupid blanket off of me. I’m hot! I don’t want your blanket on me!”

“LET ME IN! I WANT TO PLAY WITH YOU!”

“That’s my elephant. I WANT MY ELEPHANT BACK.”

“I had it first. You weren’t playing with it!”

“MOooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooom!”

“Mooooooooooom! Mooooooooooooom! Moooooooooooom!”

“Her feet are crossing the line – she’s taking up the whole couch!”

“I want one of the pillows, you can’t have them both.”

“Why did you take my bookmark out of my book? You’ve lost my place. MOM! SHE LOST MY PLACE IN MY BOOK!”

“I want the pink straw!”

“She took the last yellow straw!”

“I want the Sponge Bob plate YOU CAN’T HAVE IT!”

“She pinched me.”

“She pulled my hair.”

“She’s LOOKING AT ME.”

“Mooooom!’

“MOM! MOM! MOM!”

And then mom promptly passes out with a pillow over her head.

The other night, I ventured out to meet the book club girls at a local restaurant. I hadn’t finished either of the books. July’s was The Middle Place by Kelly Corrigan which I had previousl read and was in the midst of re-reading. June’s selection was Nicholas Sparks’s Dear John, which I purchased though I have no intention of reading it. It’d been a long few days (yes, all summer days are getting to be that way) and I wanted to go out, be silly and just take a break from life.

We talked about the books for roughly three and a half minutes before moving on to talking about regular life stuff – friendships, movies, work and the oh-so-important “which teacher did you request for your child for the fall”. Y’know, the normal stuff. Over copious amounts of oh-so-bad for you appetizers (cheese fries, anyone?), we gabbed for two hours and by the time I left to dash home (it was Project Runway night, after all!), I was refreshed.

I arrived home relieved from the time out, and so I ventured upstairs to kiss my daughters goodnight. When I peeked in at Pumpkin, I noticed something was a little different.

“Hey, Pumpkin… Who cut your hair?”

“The ‘usual person’,” she replied – implying my sister and YES, actually using air quotes.

“Um, she gave you bangs?”

She wouldn’t have done that! I thought to myself. There’s no way my sister would have given my kid bangs without calling me or texting me to see if it was okay.

“PRINCESS!” I called. My older daughter came in. “What do you know about your sister’s hair?” By then, Pumpkin had huddled under a blanket, refusing to speak.

The Princess knew nothing about it. Hubby knew nothing about it. As I began to sift through her hair, I realized… This was definitely NOT a professional cut. This was definitely the handiwork of a freshly-minted five year old who stole her big sister’s scissors.

Sigh.

There’s never a dull moment in our house. I had always jokingly said, “If one of my daughters is going to cut her hair, it will be Pumpkin.” She is a creative, free-spirited spit fire and so I am not at all surprised by this. Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t thrilled either.

I called my sister for an emergency hair summit and she was able to cut Pumpkin’s hair into a cute bob. The bangs were actually well-cut, considering they were at the hand’s of a five year old, and brushed just beyond eyebrow length. They barely needed to be touched up. There’s a small patch underneath that has been cut to about an inch in length, but… it doesn’t show, and we left it alone. As it grows, we’ll continue to even things out.

It’s easier to care for now – a happy side effect – and it’s made for interesting conversation fodder. I think all my friends at some point cut their own hair when they were children. Most did a far more brutal job than Pumpkin did.

It’s only hair. Life goes on.

But I’ve temporarily suspended her scissors privileges.

**Of COURSE those are affiliate links, silly!