So I got a haircut. I had an emotionally induced chop when I lost the baby and it was my full intention to grow it back out asap. The fun thing about curly hair is that it doesn't seem to grow. Well, it grows and grows, but curls into itself as it grows. No length, just width. I finally decided to purge some of the mulletous growth on Thursday.
I had a picture. I've learned it's always better to have a picture. I've learned that the picture needs to be realistic. No haircut can give me lips like Angelina. So I found a great, realistic cut. The girl in the picture has the same shaped face and same funky curls. I've had this cut many times, by many people and it usually lands somewhat close to the picture.
This girl mustn't have looked at the picture. This girl literally took the scissors and cut straight across the back of my hair. No thinning, no blending, no angling. "All set!" She said. "Uh, could you thin the pyramid a little?" I asked. "Oh, sure..." she replied as if she fully intended to all along and the "All set!" was a sike. So she thinned for half a sec and said again, "All set!" Nope. She had brushed the fro. You don't brush the dry fro.
This is an Aveda salon. AVEDA. You would think she's been schooled in the arts of not brushing dry curls. Wallace and Grommit. You've seen it. The lady friend with the pyramid shaped red hair. Yes.
Off I went, knowing I wasn't going to be happy with my hair. After washing it myself and styling it with high hopes, I hear from Titus:
"You look like one of those mushrooms from Mario."
And from Felix: "You always look pretty, no matter how bad your hair looks."
And from Jude: "You-wa hair looks funky. I gone fits it."
And from Simon: "No! It looks good! Don't listen to them, they're idiots."
I went back to the salon today and had another gal fix it. I feel like it kinda made a bad thing worse, but it's just hair; it'll grow back. I was aiming for hip and stylish and instead look somewhat old ladyish/manish.
While on the subject, my dear, sweet nephew said to me a few days ago, "In case you're feeling bad about your birthday this week, you shouldn't. I mean, you don't look old. Even though you are really old, you don't look it." It was the quantifier "really" that had me advise him to "shhhhhhhhh."
And so I don't forget the other kid funnies I jotted down today...
Jude and I were playing "Do you remember?" when I was trying to get him to take a nap. "Do you remember our big garage in Ohio? Do you remember riding on the hill?" I asked.
Then he started asking me questions. Towards the end, he asked, "Member dat man? Saan?"
Dat man has only been gone three weeks. :( I made sure he knows "Saan" is still Daddy and will be home very soon. When he was on the phone with Sean, he kept referring to our house as "Mommy's house." This military life ain't easy on the home front. Poor little guy.
He has learned a neat trick. Not sure who taught him, but he'll randomly yell out, "Titus...MUTE!" or "Felix...FELIX...mute." If only his trick worked.
We were praying tonight and sometimes he copies what the other person is saying. He began on his own, thanking God for Unca Jim, Isaac and cake. My brother had us for dinner tonight and happened to have a lil cake for me. :D Moving on in the prayer, I said, "Thank you, God, for healing Grandma Audie..." He repeated, "Thank you, Dod, for Gwamma Naughty."