Rowan thinks he is the coolest kid ever... nothing like watching a bare bummed kid streak across the room to jump in his new car! And Mik as it turns out, actually likes when Mom practices on her hair. Whew!
28 January 2010
Aren't They Cute?
Rowan thinks he is the coolest kid ever... nothing like watching a bare bummed kid streak across the room to jump in his new car! And Mik as it turns out, actually likes when Mom practices on her hair. Whew!
27 January 2010
War - Day 6
Success can be measured in many ways:
A basketball team who scores more points than another wins. They are by any definition considered successful. If a player on the other team scored 60 points, but his team lost, he is considered unsuccessful.
A middle school kid who suffers weekly swirlies in the gym locker room is considered a loser. When said kid grows up, develops a new technology and sells his work for millions of dollars, he is now considered hugely successful. In fact, he is more successful because of his triumph over middle school bullies and his overall rise to the throne of success from the throne of porcelain.
What does this have to do with the war I currently find myself in with vermin? I'll tell you. For a few nights it was hard to sleep. I kept waking up, thinking I could hear those beady eyes and see that terrible smell of mice (yes, at 2,3 and 4am you hear the eyes and see the smell. Sometimes you think it is Monday morning and you are late for work when it is really Saturday. The hours past midnight are akin to Wonderland, where nothing is as it seems). Anyways, the sightings are gone. The smell is diminishing. The traps are untouched. Don't get me wrong. I believe the mice are still out there. Planning, scheming, plotting and dreaming the revenge of their fallen brethren. I, on the other hand, dreamed last night that my friend Alex and I were in a cross country tandem cycling competition, only we were using Big Wheels. And we were winning. And we won.
Randy
(Okay, okay. Confucius didn't say or pen that quote. But if he did, that would have been awesome.)
P.S. - Here is a picture of our new set of wheels, er, Rowan's set of wheels.
A basketball team who scores more points than another wins. They are by any definition considered successful. If a player on the other team scored 60 points, but his team lost, he is considered unsuccessful.
A middle school kid who suffers weekly swirlies in the gym locker room is considered a loser. When said kid grows up, develops a new technology and sells his work for millions of dollars, he is now considered hugely successful. In fact, he is more successful because of his triumph over middle school bullies and his overall rise to the throne of success from the throne of porcelain.
What does this have to do with the war I currently find myself in with vermin? I'll tell you. For a few nights it was hard to sleep. I kept waking up, thinking I could hear those beady eyes and see that terrible smell of mice (yes, at 2,3 and 4am you hear the eyes and see the smell. Sometimes you think it is Monday morning and you are late for work when it is really Saturday. The hours past midnight are akin to Wonderland, where nothing is as it seems). Anyways, the sightings are gone. The smell is diminishing. The traps are untouched. Don't get me wrong. I believe the mice are still out there. Planning, scheming, plotting and dreaming the revenge of their fallen brethren. I, on the other hand, dreamed last night that my friend Alex and I were in a cross country tandem cycling competition, only we were using Big Wheels. And we were winning. And we won.
"Only he who is successful has the opportunity to enjoy the bliss of wild dreams." - Confucius
Randy
(Okay, okay. Confucius didn't say or pen that quote. But if he did, that would have been awesome.)
P.S. - Here is a picture of our new set of wheels, er, Rowan's set of wheels.
25 January 2010
War- Day 5
Smell: maybe
I'm thinking the war may be over... No sightings, no smells, no use of the trusty Libman. Hmmm. That would be too good to be true.
On another note, because despite our deep dislike of vermin and rodent alike we do have a life, we do have better things to write about. Sometimes.
Beth's recent activities: I survived a Young Women Sleepover. I also refrained from taking up cell phones (big pet peeve of mine- if you have kids please don't let them have their cell phones on their person during youth activities or during church in general. They can't help it... they have to pull them out and 'just check.' It's a compulsion youth of America can't control. They do try, but are most unsuccessful. Soooo... Take the dumb things away, keep the youth adviser's number on yours and call them instead. It will make everyone happy. Except your kid. And that's ok. And they DO USE THEM IN CHURCH. No matter what they say, they do. And get rid of the i- pods and whatever other nifty electronics there are. PLEASE. (Just during Church related activities. Three hours. They will survive. I promise)
I'm done with my soapbox. Continuing with Stolle Life.
After the sleepless night of the sleepover I dropped girls off and went to school. AND after school I chaperoned a tri-stake dance. With Randy. It was our date night I guess. I did have to beg him to dance... but once convinced we had fun careening all over the floor, stopping kids here and there, asking strangers and/or Randy's students from school to find the Smyrna Ward youth and make them dance. I confessed to the Bishop. He said "That's great. It's your job to embarrass them." Whew! Sorry kids.. but you looked a little lonely on the sidelines. I've been there and it's kinda boring. I thought I would spare you a wasted Saturday night. You can thank me later.
And then I came home and slept for twelve hours. Anyone with two children knows the opportunity to sleep for eight hours is a far off goal, but twelve? That just proves how wonderful my children really are. (they slept for twelve hours too)
We also have a new car. Pictures tomorrow. Rowan loves it... Compliments of Mom. hehehe.. We can then fill you in on Randy, Mikayla, and Rowan's weekend. I was absent for most of it, but I hear they had fun!
I'm thinking the war may be over... No sightings, no smells, no use of the trusty Libman. Hmmm. That would be too good to be true.
On another note, because despite our deep dislike of vermin and rodent alike we do have a life, we do have better things to write about. Sometimes.
Beth's recent activities: I survived a Young Women Sleepover. I also refrained from taking up cell phones (big pet peeve of mine- if you have kids please don't let them have their cell phones on their person during youth activities or during church in general. They can't help it... they have to pull them out and 'just check.' It's a compulsion youth of America can't control. They do try, but are most unsuccessful. Soooo... Take the dumb things away, keep the youth adviser's number on yours and call them instead. It will make everyone happy. Except your kid. And that's ok. And they DO USE THEM IN CHURCH. No matter what they say, they do. And get rid of the i- pods and whatever other nifty electronics there are. PLEASE. (Just during Church related activities. Three hours. They will survive. I promise)
I'm done with my soapbox. Continuing with Stolle Life.
After the sleepless night of the sleepover I dropped girls off and went to school. AND after school I chaperoned a tri-stake dance. With Randy. It was our date night I guess. I did have to beg him to dance... but once convinced we had fun careening all over the floor, stopping kids here and there, asking strangers and/or Randy's students from school to find the Smyrna Ward youth and make them dance. I confessed to the Bishop. He said "That's great. It's your job to embarrass them." Whew! Sorry kids.. but you looked a little lonely on the sidelines. I've been there and it's kinda boring. I thought I would spare you a wasted Saturday night. You can thank me later.
And then I came home and slept for twelve hours. Anyone with two children knows the opportunity to sleep for eight hours is a far off goal, but twelve? That just proves how wonderful my children really are. (they slept for twelve hours too)
We also have a new car. Pictures tomorrow. Rowan loves it... Compliments of Mom. hehehe.. We can then fill you in on Randy, Mikayla, and Rowan's weekend. I was absent for most of it, but I hear they had fun!
24 January 2010
War: Day 3, Day 4
No official sightings of target enemy.
Death toll: Not high enough.
Anxiety level: Reduced
Team morale: Steady
Continued contemplation of feline possession.
Death toll: Not high enough.
Anxiety level: Reduced
Team morale: Steady
Continued contemplation of feline possession.
22 January 2010
20 January 2010
War- Day 1
Today is the 20th day of the month known as January. It is currently 23 hundred hours. Sergeant Stolle reporting. The following is a debriefing of our first day at the battlefront.
Two lessons were learned today: First, go all out when commencing war. Second, never take your eye off the ball.
This morning Mikayla went to use the restroom and came running back to me saying, "Daddy there's a mouse in the bathroom, there's a mouse in the bathroom." I asked her if it was alive and she put on a look of deep thought.
So, utterly confused as Mikayla looked up at me I decided the mouse must be alive and I decided I was going to kill it. It wouldn't be my first kill. Well, kind of. You see I've bested a few mice by simply setting mouse traps that have done all the work, but I've never been present or held the weapon that finished the mouse off. So this was it. Stolle vs. Mouse. And I was ready.
I grabbed the nearest sturdy object (excluding Rowan from consideration) and marched to the bathroom. Darth Vader's march played in my head and the adrenaline was flowing. I held my broom at the ready and threw open the door. And there he was, crouched down in the middle of the floor. In my mind I screamed, Remember the Alamo! But it was all for nothing. He was already dead. I crept towards him, thinking he may still be alive and attempting to trick me into letting my guard down. I extended the broom and prodded him, expecting that he would latch on to the bristles and attempt to confiscate my weapon. Nope. He just slid on the floor a bit. But what if he's been in this situation before?, I though. What if he has been trained to fake it until I left the room to find a dust pan? So I prodded again. Still no movement. Sure enough, he was dead. I couldn't believe it. I had pumped myself up for this match and I was going to lose my chance, so I commenced mouth to mouth resuscitation. Okay, okay. I didn't do that. But despite the thrill of victory, I felt cheated. Apparently a mouse trap had smacked him, but he was not stuck in it. By the looks of it, he wandered about three feet and fell dead. Impact-induced cranial hemorrhage. Poor guy never had a chance.
Later in the day, we all returned home as a family and were in the kitchen. Beth and I were getting food for Mikayla and Rowan. We planned on strategically setting out the bait we had previously picked up at Home Depot as the kids ate. We were doing a quick check of our current traps when I noticed a tail stuck out of one in the pantry. You see, we have some circular traps set out that are baited on the inside. Mice are supposed to crawl in, set off the trap and get stuck. I saw this tail and thought, Is the mouse stuck in there, or is he just now peering in? The trap showed on the outside that it had not gone off. I grabbed my trusty broom and nudged the trap. A flicker of the tail. I nudged again and he backed out of the circular piece of junk in a flash and bolted behind some buckets. Here we go, I thought. Time to destroy you little fella. Beth stood next to the door, anticipating his exit. She was ready for the kill. I slid one of the three buckets away from the others and he darted out from behind the others and out the door where we stood. He ran the opposite way from Beth and stealthily dodged two swings of my Libman. He squeezed between the dishwasher and the kitchen cupboards, out of sight but not out of mind.
I think you can guess where we dropped the first cube of mouse poison. Yep, right in the little crevice between the dishwasher and cupboards. We continued to drop these landmines in various areas around the house, away from the reach of children and directly in the path of the enemy. This involved going up into the attic which, to be quite honest, we had never approached before. We finished baiting the house and felt a huge sense of accomplishment. We have officially declared war on the mouse (or mice).
To finish off, we had just out the kids to bed and were preparing for bed ourselves when we heard a tiny noise in out room. I looked around. Nothing. But you know how it is when you hear a little noise and you know that something very well could be there. Every 10 seconds or so I glanced over in the direction of the noise we heard. Nothing. 10 seconds, turn and look. Nothing. 10 seconds, turn and look, nothing. 10 seconds, turn and look. Something...right next to another circular trap. There he was. Well, I say he in hopes that it is the same mouse that we had seen in the kitchen. Anyways, I quietly called for Beth's attention as she was reading your blog. "Beth. Beth. Beth, he's here. In our room. He’s right next to the trap." She hadn't looked over yet, so I turned and said, "Look." In the time it took to do that and turn my head back, he was gone. Did he go in the trap? Did he run for cover under the desk? Did he head out of our room? No, it didn’t take that long to turn and say "look". He had to be in the trap.
Beth and I discussed quietly how to approach the situation. Then, a stroke of genius. "Beth, let's lay sticky traps on either side of the trap. If he is in there and runs out then we'll get him." Beth wasn't sure if he was even in the trap, but she agreed to the plan. She grabbed two glue traps and ever-so-carefully placed them on either side of the trap. Work of a professional I tell you. She didn't even flinch, knowing full well that the scum we were after could pounce at a moment's notice. As she backed away from the trap, there was a jerk and the glue traps pulled tight to the circular trap. Did we get him? Did we get him? I can't see him. Maybe he is stuck in the disk and the sticky traps are holding him in. I once again called on Libman to do the prodding. For as much as I poked, there were was only one more movement. The top of the circular trap spun to a new setting, which now read "Not set". In other words, "Trap empty". "You've been had". "You lose". Well, maybe for now.
Enemy Casualties Today: 1 mouse
Our Casualties Today: 1 circular trap and 2 glue traps (could not be salvaged after misfire)
Forecast For Tomorrow: Mid 50's, partly cloudy, chance of death.
Two lessons were learned today: First, go all out when commencing war. Second, never take your eye off the ball.
This morning Mikayla went to use the restroom and came running back to me saying, "Daddy there's a mouse in the bathroom, there's a mouse in the bathroom." I asked her if it was alive and she put on a look of deep thought.
"Yes, it is alive. It’s stuck in a trap."
"Oh, it’s in a trap? Are you sure it is alive?"
"Hmmm. No. It’s dead."
"Is it stuck in the trap?"
"Hmmm, No."
"Mikayla, is the mouse dead or alive?"
"Well, it’s alive."
"Is it in a trap or not?"
"Well, no."
So, utterly confused as Mikayla looked up at me I decided the mouse must be alive and I decided I was going to kill it. It wouldn't be my first kill. Well, kind of. You see I've bested a few mice by simply setting mouse traps that have done all the work, but I've never been present or held the weapon that finished the mouse off. So this was it. Stolle vs. Mouse. And I was ready.
I grabbed the nearest sturdy object (excluding Rowan from consideration) and marched to the bathroom. Darth Vader's march played in my head and the adrenaline was flowing. I held my broom at the ready and threw open the door. And there he was, crouched down in the middle of the floor. In my mind I screamed, Remember the Alamo! But it was all for nothing. He was already dead. I crept towards him, thinking he may still be alive and attempting to trick me into letting my guard down. I extended the broom and prodded him, expecting that he would latch on to the bristles and attempt to confiscate my weapon. Nope. He just slid on the floor a bit. But what if he's been in this situation before?, I though. What if he has been trained to fake it until I left the room to find a dust pan? So I prodded again. Still no movement. Sure enough, he was dead. I couldn't believe it. I had pumped myself up for this match and I was going to lose my chance, so I commenced mouth to mouth resuscitation. Okay, okay. I didn't do that. But despite the thrill of victory, I felt cheated. Apparently a mouse trap had smacked him, but he was not stuck in it. By the looks of it, he wandered about three feet and fell dead. Impact-induced cranial hemorrhage. Poor guy never had a chance.
Later in the day, we all returned home as a family and were in the kitchen. Beth and I were getting food for Mikayla and Rowan. We planned on strategically setting out the bait we had previously picked up at Home Depot as the kids ate. We were doing a quick check of our current traps when I noticed a tail stuck out of one in the pantry. You see, we have some circular traps set out that are baited on the inside. Mice are supposed to crawl in, set off the trap and get stuck. I saw this tail and thought, Is the mouse stuck in there, or is he just now peering in? The trap showed on the outside that it had not gone off. I grabbed my trusty broom and nudged the trap. A flicker of the tail. I nudged again and he backed out of the circular piece of junk in a flash and bolted behind some buckets. Here we go, I thought. Time to destroy you little fella. Beth stood next to the door, anticipating his exit. She was ready for the kill. I slid one of the three buckets away from the others and he darted out from behind the others and out the door where we stood. He ran the opposite way from Beth and stealthily dodged two swings of my Libman. He squeezed between the dishwasher and the kitchen cupboards, out of sight but not out of mind.
I think you can guess where we dropped the first cube of mouse poison. Yep, right in the little crevice between the dishwasher and cupboards. We continued to drop these landmines in various areas around the house, away from the reach of children and directly in the path of the enemy. This involved going up into the attic which, to be quite honest, we had never approached before. We finished baiting the house and felt a huge sense of accomplishment. We have officially declared war on the mouse (or mice).
To finish off, we had just out the kids to bed and were preparing for bed ourselves when we heard a tiny noise in out room. I looked around. Nothing. But you know how it is when you hear a little noise and you know that something very well could be there. Every 10 seconds or so I glanced over in the direction of the noise we heard. Nothing. 10 seconds, turn and look. Nothing. 10 seconds, turn and look, nothing. 10 seconds, turn and look. Something...right next to another circular trap. There he was. Well, I say he in hopes that it is the same mouse that we had seen in the kitchen. Anyways, I quietly called for Beth's attention as she was reading your blog. "Beth. Beth. Beth, he's here. In our room. He’s right next to the trap." She hadn't looked over yet, so I turned and said, "Look." In the time it took to do that and turn my head back, he was gone. Did he go in the trap? Did he run for cover under the desk? Did he head out of our room? No, it didn’t take that long to turn and say "look". He had to be in the trap.
Beth and I discussed quietly how to approach the situation. Then, a stroke of genius. "Beth, let's lay sticky traps on either side of the trap. If he is in there and runs out then we'll get him." Beth wasn't sure if he was even in the trap, but she agreed to the plan. She grabbed two glue traps and ever-so-carefully placed them on either side of the trap. Work of a professional I tell you. She didn't even flinch, knowing full well that the scum we were after could pounce at a moment's notice. As she backed away from the trap, there was a jerk and the glue traps pulled tight to the circular trap. Did we get him? Did we get him? I can't see him. Maybe he is stuck in the disk and the sticky traps are holding him in. I once again called on Libman to do the prodding. For as much as I poked, there were was only one more movement. The top of the circular trap spun to a new setting, which now read "Not set". In other words, "Trap empty". "You've been had". "You lose". Well, maybe for now.
Enemy Casualties Today: 1 mouse
Our Casualties Today: 1 circular trap and 2 glue traps (could not be salvaged after misfire)
Forecast For Tomorrow: Mid 50's, partly cloudy, chance of death.
19 January 2010
Help Us PLEASE
After I wrote the following email I realized it was the most relevant thing happening in our house that even came close to blog worthy. I'm a little embarrassed I wrote this to my mom, but Randy and I both agree that she usually has good solutions to the worst of problems. If anyone else has ideas they ARE welcome.... If you know me, have no fear of scary, and want to come scope it out- feel free. Seriously.Randy and I are too scared, hence the letter to mummy:
Mom, I can't sleep. There are mice in my house. Night number two of witnessing one crawling across my bedroom floor. What if they go eat Row's face off or something? Or beautiful Mikayla's? Why are they upstairs... and I know something (much bigger than a mouse) lives in the attic and walls. I can hear it. Have you ever heard of roof rats? Are they real or is someone trying to psyche me out?
I spent over 35 dollars on traps... the mice avoid them.... once one works it never works again. It's almost as if when a mouse dies it sends out a message and the living mice receive it and become wiser... without even trying... and how in the world do they eat the peanut butter and not get smacked. HOW HOW HOW HOW? I know we set them right. We killed five the first night.... and then NO MORE. NO MORE!!
I really can't sleep.... One ran out from under my feet last night as I was sitting in my cozy chair. The chair and I have not been cozy since.... I want my life back. I HATE MICE... they are vermin. Diseased.... disgusting.....and they smell. I can smell them.... I sanitized my house. I think mouse pee is as bad as cat pee. Or is it in my head again? Like when I cook shrimp and can smell it for days even though no one else can?
Speaking of cats- apparently you have to have a hungry cat to catch mice. Now I can't borrow a cat because all of our friends have overfed fat ones....
And my attic. I have NEVER and hopefully will never visit my attic. But something lives in it.... What is it? I'm more scared of my attic than my garage... I hate the garage too... So much junk... So much that I have no idea what to do with, and it is probably all infested with mice. I'm so scared of my garage that I haven't even taken Christmas down because I know that I'll have to go in the garage and get the Christmas boxes out. I can't do it. It's something I physically can't make myself do. Maybe I am as equally scared of both... I won't go in either, things live in both, and they are dark and scary..... Gross.
Can Dad come? You were pretty handy at killing things too. Can you come? Can someone fix this for me. I'm teary eyed over this. I've had a bad week and mice just make it that much worse.... and I can't even sit in my cozy chair and relax.... I think I need anti anxiety medicine. Again.
Randy is worse than me about this stuff. Just this evening I stared at him while he blissfully snores away this problem and find myself wishing he would just kill the one we know is sitting under the desk in our bedroom.....
Ugh. And gross. Check out this website: http://www.frugal-living-freedom.com/mouse-traps.html
Should I try that? Is it ethical or humane? My kids would take it apart. Just tonight Row walked in carrying one of our fancier mouse traps..... I'm sure the one on that site would really intrigue him...
Mom.... I'm begging you. How do I fix this? It's just going to get worse and worse....They breed more than rabbits don't they? And mice are OK with marrying their cousins too? I'll have an infestation. What if I already do? And what about the attic? What lives up there?
Please help me. I CANNOT SLEEP because of this. I have some stellar under eye circles that would do any theater makeup artist proud. Ugh.. Grrrr. Blaaahhhhh...Ewwww.... Humph.... Plahgnehghskljhaghe.... Grr. Grrr. Grrrrrrr.
Beth
P.S. Completely unrelated: Mik and I had a LOT of fun today baby-sitting some friend's children today. It was really nice. We made messes, went on a walk, played with trains, and settled down for a short movie.. Good times had by all I think.
Mom, I can't sleep. There are mice in my house. Night number two of witnessing one crawling across my bedroom floor. What if they go eat Row's face off or something? Or beautiful Mikayla's? Why are they upstairs... and I know something (much bigger than a mouse) lives in the attic and walls. I can hear it. Have you ever heard of roof rats? Are they real or is someone trying to psyche me out?
I spent over 35 dollars on traps... the mice avoid them.... once one works it never works again. It's almost as if when a mouse dies it sends out a message and the living mice receive it and become wiser... without even trying... and how in the world do they eat the peanut butter and not get smacked. HOW HOW HOW HOW? I know we set them right. We killed five the first night.... and then NO MORE. NO MORE!!
I really can't sleep.... One ran out from under my feet last night as I was sitting in my cozy chair. The chair and I have not been cozy since.... I want my life back. I HATE MICE... they are vermin. Diseased.... disgusting.....and they smell. I can smell them.... I sanitized my house. I think mouse pee is as bad as cat pee. Or is it in my head again? Like when I cook shrimp and can smell it for days even though no one else can?
Speaking of cats- apparently you have to have a hungry cat to catch mice. Now I can't borrow a cat because all of our friends have overfed fat ones....
And my attic. I have NEVER and hopefully will never visit my attic. But something lives in it.... What is it? I'm more scared of my attic than my garage... I hate the garage too... So much junk... So much that I have no idea what to do with, and it is probably all infested with mice. I'm so scared of my garage that I haven't even taken Christmas down because I know that I'll have to go in the garage and get the Christmas boxes out. I can't do it. It's something I physically can't make myself do. Maybe I am as equally scared of both... I won't go in either, things live in both, and they are dark and scary..... Gross.
Can Dad come? You were pretty handy at killing things too. Can you come? Can someone fix this for me. I'm teary eyed over this. I've had a bad week and mice just make it that much worse.... and I can't even sit in my cozy chair and relax.... I think I need anti anxiety medicine. Again.
Randy is worse than me about this stuff. Just this evening I stared at him while he blissfully snores away this problem and find myself wishing he would just kill the one we know is sitting under the desk in our bedroom.....
Ugh. And gross. Check out this website: http://www.frugal-living-freedom.com/mouse-traps.html
Should I try that? Is it ethical or humane? My kids would take it apart. Just tonight Row walked in carrying one of our fancier mouse traps..... I'm sure the one on that site would really intrigue him...
Mom.... I'm begging you. How do I fix this? It's just going to get worse and worse....They breed more than rabbits don't they? And mice are OK with marrying their cousins too? I'll have an infestation. What if I already do? And what about the attic? What lives up there?
Please help me. I CANNOT SLEEP because of this. I have some stellar under eye circles that would do any theater makeup artist proud. Ugh.. Grrrr. Blaaahhhhh...Ewwww.... Humph.... Plahgnehghskljhaghe.... Grr. Grrr. Grrrrrrr.
Beth
P.S. Completely unrelated: Mik and I had a LOT of fun today baby-sitting some friend's children today. It was really nice. We made messes, went on a walk, played with trains, and settled down for a short movie.. Good times had by all I think.
13 January 2010
I'm in hair heaven! (pics at bottom!)
So... I'm sure that everyone else has thought of this already
- HAIR BLOGS -
Where have I been? I have a hair blog... why wouldn't other people? As I was being bored and peaking into stranger's blogs (I know we are on the internet, but if I don't know someone personally I feel a bit stalkerish) I found other moms. With kids. With kids that have cut hair. Their own hair. Short. And it is awkwardly growing out.
Sound familiar?
Yes! There are other mommies that have a four year old that cut her hair and left them with a somewhat abysmal mess that is ever so difficult to remedy each morning.
I started with shedoeshair.blogspot.com and from their I have steeped myself into a bit of hair heaven. Wonderful! So many blogs are out there!
Yeah, I am in hair school so there is some assumption that I can 'do hair.' Truth: not so much. That's why I am in school! I'm paying thousands of dollars so my kids can look better ;-) and all my siblings too....
Thankfully, hair styling is the chapter we are on at school and so this new blog find is amazing and much needed! Why did I not think to look for this before? I found flat iron curls on you-tube... (Gold by the way. Gold.) surely I could have found mommy blogs on hair. I'll bet there are professional blogs too! The possibilities are endless!!!
Check out the results: hair headbands! Mik thought she was pretty awesome (and she is!) We decided we will do a new hairstyle every day!
- HAIR BLOGS -
Where have I been? I have a hair blog... why wouldn't other people? As I was being bored and peaking into stranger's blogs (I know we are on the internet, but if I don't know someone personally I feel a bit stalkerish) I found other moms. With kids. With kids that have cut hair. Their own hair. Short. And it is awkwardly growing out.
Sound familiar?
Yes! There are other mommies that have a four year old that cut her hair and left them with a somewhat abysmal mess that is ever so difficult to remedy each morning.
I started with shedoeshair.blogspot.com and from their I have steeped myself into a bit of hair heaven. Wonderful! So many blogs are out there!
Yeah, I am in hair school so there is some assumption that I can 'do hair.' Truth: not so much. That's why I am in school! I'm paying thousands of dollars so my kids can look better ;-) and all my siblings too....
Thankfully, hair styling is the chapter we are on at school and so this new blog find is amazing and much needed! Why did I not think to look for this before? I found flat iron curls on you-tube... (Gold by the way. Gold.) surely I could have found mommy blogs on hair. I'll bet there are professional blogs too! The possibilities are endless!!!
Check out the results: hair headbands! Mik thought she was pretty awesome (and she is!) We decided we will do a new hairstyle every day!
11 January 2010
Just when I thought he was growing up
Wasn't he cute as a little itty bitty baby?And now we have: Big Man Eating Candle (It's healthy. I promise)
Today was Row's one year appointment. 21 pounds 5 ounces... 29 something inches, and as usual a good head size which I absolutely cannot remember. The bitter truth-little man is growing growing and will one day be gone. (yes, I know it's years away but I will so miss the cuddles I have to steal late at night when he is so sleepy he has no choice but to snuggle!)
I was anticipating the Dr. telling me that Row needed to be off his bottle (would be but a friend's dog ate his one and only sippy cup)he needed to be asleep in his own bed, eat adult food, and all those typical normal things. I was also scared that he had an obstructed bowel due to his HUGE gut and chronic problems in the diaper zone.(I thought he ate a Farkle die... we can only find five of six)
And she did tell me all those things. I sort of lied about the bottle... I know he would be off of it if I had another sippy cup so I went ahead and said he was because I know he could be, because he used to be and I do fully anticipate getting another cup for him so that he will be. Really. That was really poor grammar. Wow. And I feel guilty for sort of telling the truth. I'll tell you the truth now- My doctor intimidates me and I didn't think she would buy my lame excuse (how much effort does it take to stop and get a sippy cup- almost none!)so I just avoided the issue and now have new guilt issues. Learn from me -honesty first, embarrassment over lame excuses later....
Oh, and he does NOT have an obstructed bowel.(where are you Farkle die?) And in addition to those normal things I was also told that I should keep him on formula as long as I could (I knew I felt guilty for quitting pumping for a reason!) and encourage him to eat baby food as long as possible. Why? I have no idea. Although I do hope formula (something new in our house) will keep the diaper zone a safer zone. That's my only wish right now.
So, just when I thought he was growing up I find myself reverting a little bit. I haven't bought baby food in months. So I guess I'll just buy a little and see if he will even eat it at all AND I'm going to buy formula (too bad I threw out those samples!)Go figure :-)
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