haircut = little boy and bye bye sweet toddler

BEFORE

AFTER

When i picked O up today he was a mess. I asked his teacher if he showed up with his hair brushed this morning, and she swore he did. Poor kid must have gotten the Wallis wave. All of Shaun's family has straight thick hair. Mine is wavy. Not good wavy. Old inconsistent perm wavy. One side will be perfect, while the other kicks out the complete opposite way. Also humidity is the enemy. So after Owen's nap he had one side marching to it's own drummer, something (hopefully lunch and not snot) matted into another portion and an unfortunate cowlick. I decided it was time for a hair cut. It really was pretty long. I could have put it in pig tails if I wanted. I asked the lady at Kool Kuts if she could do a faux hawk cut....thinking it would be kept long on top. Kind of inbetween skater and preppy and he wouldn't have to lose all that pretty blond hair. Turns out, O picked today to be an angel and he sat there perfectly in his little firetruck seat while she cut.........and cut..........and cut. there was more hair on the floor than when i get my hair cut. we could have donated it to locks of love there was that much hair. When she was done, O got a sucker and I barely recognized my own kid.

Comments

Amy said…

Ok so I showed C the pictures of O and on the second one he said, "that's not O". I think he looks so cute. Be careful they start acting bigger when they get a haircut for some reason!

October 29, 2007 at 2:41 PM

voice

I remember waking up the day after the election tired and stunned. When I got to work I went downstairs to make copies and make some tea and did not make it back to my classroom until right before the tardy bell rang. I have a large class, full of all kinds of students from all kinds of backgrounds. I had not even thought about how they would respond to the election and that since we begin school so early that I might be the first adult they saw that day. Immediately an African American on the front row told me that she was disappointed in our country. I teach science, not government and thought that I needed to turn the conversation as quickly as I could safely back to the objectives on the board, but I could not ignore her hurt and the rest of the quiet in the room. I told her that regardless of what candidate she supported that this country is run by more than one person, that very soon she would be able to vote, that she had a voice. Behind her, a student that also ha...

different

Someone recently sent me a meme about tattoos. I reminded them that I have over half a dozen, although none in such obvious places as the picture. I thought about it while I washed my hair, and how once my hair was also purple, and what kind of memes could be found about that. And also, my nose was pierced. Other than the first two tattoos, none of these were things I did in my youth. All were in my thirties. Currently my hair is a plain brown in a sensible cut. My tattoos all easily hidden with most clothing and only my ears are pierced. As this decade closes I have made efforts to dress more professionally, drink less, stay on top of the laundry although I still refuse to make my bed and talk at an appropriate volume level. Yet, I only looked back on my purple-haired days with longing rather than regret. See, I used to do those things to be different. Sometimes I’d feel just a little trapped by my suburban life although perfect, felt a little too predictable. I fel...

nickel and dime

Recently my son wanted to buy something that he had saved up his money for. A lava lamp. And he had the cash for it. The only problem was that most of it was in change. So he filled his pockets with about ten pounds of coinage and we headed to the store. Now, the easiest thing would be for me to put it on my debit card. With the few other items I of course needed. But I wanted him to own every bit of the process (and learn a thing or two about sales tax). So I glared at the people behind us who were muttering as my sweet guy counted out his change. All 14.99 + tax of it. And he proudly took home his new lava lamp carrying it oh so carefully to the car. Because it was his. He had bought it with his own hard earned cash. One quarter, dime and nickel at a time. I haven’t bought anything more than a cup of coffee with change in years. But in high school and college I used to do it all the time. I’d raid my dad’s change box and buy pizza. I’d gather up all the change in my cup...

idontbelieveingrammar

Search This Blog