Wednesday, November 26, 2014

I'm Not Sorry

That I roll the biscuits into plain old boring bun shapes instead of manipulating them into teddy bears or bunnies or hedgehogs that'll get a thousand shares on Pinterest.

That my kids eat too much pasta. 

That I drink too much coffee.

That sometimes I secretly hope P. will wake up in the night, from a nightmare or dancing to pee, because it means we snuggle back together into her bed - even if it is too tight a squeeze and getting more uncomfortable every month.

That I'm not more successful. Whatever that means. 

That our biggest non-essential expense is probably dance studio tuition. Because my definition of non-essential is probably not the same as yours.

That it takes me forever to write and then actually send thank you cards.

That I treat myself far too often. More often, maybe, than the people around me realize.

That it's not so unusual for me to think about what I'd be doing in a given moment if I hadn't had children. I'm pretty sure other parents do this, too, but now I'm too afraid to just ask.

That the reason I started wearing red lipstick was because I feel ugly a lot.

That I still blog about my miscarriage four years later. (I still cry about it, too.)

That about half of my birthday money went toward French cafe chairs we didn't even need because we already have chairs. (C'est la vie.)

That there are times when I just don't want to be touched. Even by my children. It's overwhelming some days to have hands hands hands on my clothes and on my skin every waking moment like I have no end or beginning. I power through the hugs and the tugs but still.

That I never got serious about homemade baby food. Baby led weaning was so much easier. So were squeeze pouches.

That I'm a bad friend sometimes. It's hard to be a mom and bring home the bacon and manage a start-up at the same time. I swear I am doing the best I can.

That I made him wear his rain boots.

That I can never decide if life is beautiful or life is ugly and so I go back and forth and back and forth for ever and ever. Some days I am an optimist and the world is so beautiful I want to live forever. Some days I am so carried away by my cynicism that I almost want to die.

That I didn't cross off a single thing on my 2014 to-do list. That's why I don't make resolutions.

That there's never enough time. It's okay, I guess.

Because honestly, I'd be more worried if I had the time to be bored.

Monday, November 17, 2014

The Little Mister's First (Real) Haircut

You know how some toddler boys have beautiful curls or fun mop tops or epic frizz that makes growing their hair out longer than people expect an adorable thing?

That was not poor Bo's experience.

His natural look is apparently the classic mullet - baby business in the front, total party in the back.

It was getting to the point where people were asking me - frequently - if he was a boy or a girl.

And while I'm all for gender bending it does get a little tedious.

Plus, in all honesty I've been putting off cutting my toddler's hair.

I've watched enough of those first haircuts to know how grownup these little guys can look after just a few snips.

But I was going to give Bo his first haircut eventually so the other day I bit the bullet and snipped straight across the back while he was distracted by the bath.

Here's the dry result. I didn't think it made him look that grown up...

Until I put him in skinny jeans and a collared shirt. I don't know whether to squee or to cry, you know?

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