Wednesday, August 31, 2011

Is the Night Half Over or Half Begun?

Some days are better than others. Today, I woke up wanting to curl into a ball and cry. No reason. Well, no particular reason. A bunch of reasons. All the reasons. It doesn't matter so much why, though. Right now, it's the what the matters.

And the what is a box of tissues, a warm bed, a tear-jerker movie and window-rattling sobs. I need catharsis, I need purging, I need to be cleaned out and left empty and clean. I need to get up tomorrow feeling like I can start over from scratch, because scratch is where I am.

Today, I feel filled up with anxiety and worry, fear and sadness, grief and longing. And I need that out and the only way I know to get that out is a good hard cry.

There are few things in life that can't be solved by one of three things: crying, salsa or margaritas. The trifecta could probably bring out world peace. Well, that and naps. I have this whole theory about naps and world peace. But tonight, what I need is crying.

And tomorrow, I have no doubt, nothing will have changed in my life. My problems will still be the same, my challenges unaltered, my failures just as apparent and my losses just as great. But I will be different. I will be made whole by breaking down.

A phoenix needs ashes to rise.

I feel like this every once in a while. It could just be personality, or maybe everyone is like this. Maybe there's something wrong with me - but if there is, it's at least very manageable. I spend most of these "some days" putting on my happy face and telling funny stories, relating tidbits and laughing when I can. I cover up my gloom, because I don't want the world to bear it with me. Partially because that's unfair and partially because I know that no amount of sharing will lessen this load.

But today I read this and I agree that it's good to talk about the good things. It's good to feel the joy and the thankfulness and the love and the wholeness. It's good to see the glass half full and the night half over. I don't however agree (with the comments, not so much Kristen whose point is that people should be allowed to be happy) that it's somehow not good to talk about the bad things.

There is darkness in the world. Deep, penetrating, soul-chilling darkness. And it's perfectly fine to revel in the light, but to ignore the darkness only gives it strength. To quit talking about the sad things, the upsetting things, the hurtful things - opens the door for those things to grow bigger and bigger and steal what's left of the light.

I think about how many problems we've solved and lessened by talking about them. Talking about a thing (or blogging about a thing) gives you power to shape it. The power to tell others it's okay. To hold it in your hand, crumple it in your fist and rule over the evil instead of the other way around.

After all, a phoenix needs ashes to rise.

Friday, August 26, 2011

Five Things on Friday - Angry Chick Music Edition

I've been hankering for some angry chick music all week. I could explain it, but that would be boring. Unfortunately, I loaned out all my angry chick CD's approximately three years ago (I am thinking that I am not getting them back.) Also, yes, I still live in the 20th century and only own music on CD. What do you want?

Anyway, as my jonesing throughout the week has worsened, I have focused on a couple of songs that I particularly would like to hear. A lot.

My Five Favorite Angry Chick Songs


1. "You Outta Know" by Alanis Morissette - Call me a product of my generation (it's okay, I really don't mind), but I think that this Morissette missive redefined the world of angry chick rock. There were a few songs out there and a couple of artists had even made a career out of vocalizing an entire gender's anger, but Alanis brought it to the forefront. This song was everywhere and everyone knew all the words to it. Alanis became synonymous with girl-rage and inspired an entire movement of angry songs. Without this one, we would have been bereft of a lot of great songs that came after. Sing it Alanis - he should have known.


2. "Since U Been Gone" by Kelly Clarkson - Okay, so I hate American Idol and everything for which it stands. The idea of popularizing the manufacturing of "pop stars" sickens me. And from the very beginning, I wanted nothing to do with this show or anything or anyone it produced. Then Kelly won and everyone was all swooning over her and - whatever - I was above it all. Then, one day, I found myself going down the road, screaming this song at the top of my lungs and I realized something. I have to like someone who makes me sing so loud I get a sore throat. It's like a requirement.


3. "Kerosene" by Miranda Lambert - There are angry chick country songs. But the last few years have seen a relative explosion. No more "Stand by Your Man," or even "Whoever's in New England." No, the women of country have embraced - pretty much as a whole - "These Boots were Made for Walkin'" and I think that's a good thing. Miranda, for what it's worth, has a pretty good spot in that. She has more angry songs than anyone else I can think of, including the Dixie Chicks. And she's better at it than Taylor Swift, who I love anyway. There's something powerful to me in the imagery of this song. Burn it down, honey!


4. "Out of Me" by Ani DiFranco - I discovered Ani in college (I guess nearly everyone who has discovered Ani discovered her in college) and after a particularly nasty break-up, I laid on my dorm room floor for hours on end listening to the entire Dilate album. (Remember that, remember when albums were a thing and a cohesive theme and feel to a collection of songs made greatness? Yeah, me too.)


5. "Piece of My Heart" by Janis Joplin - A list of girls and music is never complete (as least when completed by Jessi) without some Janis. It's hard to think of Janis as angry for me, because she's just so impassioned, so powerful. But take a moment and really listen, soak up the growl in her voice and the sarcasm in the words. This is anger. This is barely concealed rage. This is what angry girl music is all about. Love ya, Janis.

What's your favorite piece of angry chick music?

Thursday, August 25, 2011

A Grungy Mother's Reservations About Cheerleading

Brynna wants to be a cheerleader. She has wanted to be a cheerleader since she was three years old and she went to her first high school football game. I blame myself. If I hadn't taken her to football games, I wouldn't be in this predicament. I do love my baby brother, though. And I spent every spare moment pointing out how cool the band was. *sigh*

In any case, she has asked me if she could be a cheerleader approximately every week for the past two years. I went through everything from "you're not old enough," to "okay, let's try gymnastics," and even the ever popular, "I'll see what I can do," followed by abject rejection of the idea.

I finally gave in. Because she's almost seven and she should have some say in her own life. Because I am hoping that she won't like it and we'll be done as soon as we get through the season. Because I don't want to keep telling her no forever. And mostly because my desire to keep her from cheering has little to do with her and a lot to do with me. And I know that's not fair.

I'm going to be brutally honest, here. Forgive me if you are a former cheerleader, a current cheerleader or a cheermom (*gulp). There's a lot I don't like about cheerleading. In the first place, and just about my only intellectual argument - I think it's misogynistic. I think the idea that girls should "cheer" for the boys while they do something athletic is ridiculous. It all comes back to the antiquated idea that girls can't play sports, so they should support those who can. It's all about putting girls in their place. And their place, apparently, is in too short skirts, jumping up and down.

I think over the years, girls' sports have gained a lot of traction and cheerleading has become a lot more about athletic prowess, which should help the situation, but instead, it has become (in some school districts) a great way to "follow" Title IX dictates, while not even coming close to the spirit of providing more opportunities for girls to play sports.

I hate those things. But I'm going to be honest about something else. College cheerleading competitions? I'm all about them. Despite the fact that I take great pride in having as my Alma Mater a school which had three cheerleaders, I will watch the competitions on ESPN all night long. I'm pretty sure that's the only reason why I need ESPN, in fact. It is impressive and athletic and amazing to watch and I hate to admit it, but it's a lot more interesting than college gymnastics. I don't know why, it just is.

And so, I'm sort of at an impasse. I can't blame a bunch of seven year olds for the history of the "sport" or for a particular school district's habit of hiding behind pompoms, and I can enjoy some good cheering. But there's something else. Something more insidious.

Cheerleaders. They were always the mean girls when I was in school. They were better than me, and never failed to tell me all about it, when they deigned to speak to me at all. This started in third or fourth grade. By the time high school came around, I could clearly understand the caste system, because I was on the bottom and they were on the top.

I was a flannel shirt wearing, Nirvana listening, book reading drama geek and academic team nerd. I hung out with the band geeks and they improved my social standing. They were the golden girls who tossed their curls and giggled too much and gossiped and told lies about lowly old me and my lowly old friends.

I don't want Brynna to live my life. I want her to make her own choices; I want her to follow her heart and know that she owns her life and she can be anything she wants. But I don't want her to live their lives either. I don't want her to be a mean girl. I don't want her to toss her hair and look down her nose. I want her to have a kind heart and an amazing voice. I want her to stand up for the downtrodden, not kick them when they're down.

Brynna is a good kid. She's smart and funny and amazing and creative. She's going to be an artist and she wants to learn to play banjo. She does take up for people and try to right wrongs. I am fiercely proud of her every day and I guess I'm going to have to trust that her spirit and goodness and kindness will win out. That her desire to be her own independent person will always trump her desire to be "one of the girls."

In the meantime, I'm going to be a cheermom. Wish me well. I wasn't cut out for this.

Tuesday, August 23, 2011

Stressity Stressed Stressed Stressed

I'm having a bad week. Last week was also a bad week. It's not bad - per se - it's just really stressful. I've got a lot on my mind and when I've got a lot on my mind, I can't seem to focus on much more than the lot that's there - on my mind. Everything else becomes a big blur of random thinkiness: maybe yellow in the kitchen, where's my shoes, I don't own a vacuum, I think I'm supposed to be working, when does Brynna start upwards?

In other words, I develop SIADD - Stress Induced Attention Deficit Disorder*.

This makes writing hard. It also makes working hard. And making a grocery list, on which I have spent the last hour. The only two things I can sucessfully do are housecleaning - I don't know why. And surf the internet.

I am an archetype of productivity.

In any case, I thought I would give you a selection of cute kid things:

Brynna is getting a lot of compliments on her new hair. I am loving it, because she was feeling pretty down about how everyone always compliments Maren on her curls. Every time someone tells her that her hair is pretty, however, she responds by saying, "It was supposed to be a punishment, but I love it. I don't think Mommy understands punishments."

**

Maren is having nightmares about zoo animals. Of course this sucks because it's nightmares and she wakes up and then I have to wake up, but it does produce these hillarious conversations regarding whether or not the lion knocked over her smelly oil (reed diffuser) or if the monkeys are coming to Brynna's room. It's nice to have the humor at three a.m.**

**

Brynna was very tired the other night and wanted to go to sleep in the car. After I strapped her in, I reclined her seat a bit so she would be "laying down." She asked me to show her how to use the lever and now she nearly always rides reclined. However, if you say something she doesn't like, she'll bug her eyes out and pop it up suddenly, so she's like a shocked jack-in-the-box. Then, she very slowly lowers the seat again - as if to let you know that you're on notice.

*Not a real thing

**Or so I tell myself at three a.m.

Tuesday, August 16, 2011

The Remake and the Reimagining

It seems like every time I turn around something is being remade or re-imagined. Did you know that there are three versions of Snow White currently in production? And this all points in a variety of directions.

First of all, there is obviously a dearth of creativity going on. Remember that summer there were two apocalyptic meteor movies? And everyone saw one and chances are you can't even remember the title of the other. Can you imagine the summer of three Snow Whites? Well, get ready, because it's coming.

And honestly, I don't expect filmmakers to have a million bazillion great ideas about movies. We may think they used to but the truth is that they never did. They had some. And they still have some, but most of what you're looking at in that super-cold, super-dark room while stuffing your face with popcorn is a remake or re-imagining of something. Maybe a book or a TV show or God-help-us a board game. Comic books, songs, picture books, and video games have all inspired movies and that's okay. That's great, actually. Because, typically, I am a fan girl of some shade and I get really excited about seeing something I love make it to the big screen.

And the truth is that there are still plenty of good ideas. There are still good books being written, good songs being sung, good games being created (ugh) and good TV shows that could benefit from a little big screeniness. So why aren't there more "original" movies? By this I mean movies that haven't already been movies, because I think we've established that there is nothing new under the glaring lights.

I hate to break it to you guys, but it's our fault. First of all, there's the economy. I'm not sure if you've heard, but it sucks and that means that people are going to the movies less often. Combine that with the wonders of RedBox and Netflix and people are going to the movies a lot less. So, the powers that be out there are sticking with what they know will bring in the cash. This breaks down into two categories: things that go boom and things that have brought in the big bucks before.

Things that go boom aren't going anywhere. As long as there are cushy seats above sticky floors, someone will be exploding something on screen. We don't have to worry too much about that. But things that have already done well, that's something else entirely.

They are remaking Total Recall. When I heard that, I was like, "Great. Cool. Amazing." Because I like We Can Remember it for You Wholesale. And Arnold sucks. But, it turns out they are going to remake the movie and not do a new, truer to the book version and that disappoints me. But, you know, Total Recall made a lot of money. A lot of money. Despite some amazingly terrible effects. You know what, though, I'm gonna see it. Because it won't have Arnold, so it's gotta be better.

And I just read that they are remaking The Stand. Personally, I think this is excellent news. Because I loved the book and I think the miniseries version is an abomination. I can't wait for this one. And I'm not sure how they measure the gross of a miniseries, but let's face it - Stephen King brings the bucks when it's done right.

Of course, there's The Smurfs. But that's our fault too. We (and I am speaking specifically to my generation here) are a nostalgic bunch of idiots. We get all hyped up over Rainbow Brite and squeal in ecstasy when someone mentions Cabbage Patch Kids. Look at the response to Transformers. Seriously. And now Cartoon Network is remaking Thunder Cats and my husband is trying to arrange his schedule around it. This was inevitable. Don't pretend it wasn't.

And this isn't all bad. Or all new. There have been (according to me and my very intsense IMDB research) 8 versions of Pride and Prejudice and 14 versions of Little Women beginning over 100 years ago. Without remakes we would be stuck with the original version of The Fly. And without re-imaginings, we'd be bereft of Romeo + Juliet. Of course, not everything works out that well, but it's all trial and error, isn't it. We just won't know if this version of Dracula will be The version of Dracula.

The biggest problem is that this is vicious cycle of evil. The more sucky remakes Hollywood churns out, the fewer people will pack their houses of 3D doom, and the fewer people sucking down 432 oz. Cokes, the suckier (and safer) the movies will get. One of us is going to have to break the cycle. I guess I'll see you at the very, very mediocre movies.

Monday, August 15, 2011

Making It! - Spring/Summer Wreath

I have discovered that I am obsessed. With wreaths. I never knew this about myself. My husband probably could have told you that I harbored an obsession based on the 752 wreaths in my basement and the compulsion to always buy grapevine wreaths at yard sales. I've always enjoyed making wreaths and when I started my Random Craftiness book, I knew that wreaths needed their own section, because I already had a lot of ideas ready to go.

Then, I joined Pinterest. (You may have heard.) In any case, I started out throwing wreath ideas in my "For the Home" Board and quickly realized they needed their own board. Now I have so many ideas that I am sad to only have two doors. I wonder if would look crazy to start sticking wreaths on the basement doors.

Anyway, before the Pinterest obsession, I whipped up this little number for Spring and Summer. I started with this inspiration from The Lettered Cottage. I wanted something that would be inviting for Spring and Summer so I wouldn't have to change it after a few days. (For those unacquainted with Kentucky weather, Spring typically lasts 2.3 days.)

Welcome Spring! and Summer, since it's August already.
I loved the idea of wrapping the wreath with scrap yarn and thought that wrapping a little twig was a great addition. However, I wanted mine to be a bit more minimalist than theirs. What I was going for was sweet and simple. Not too much going on.

I started with a purchased foam wreath from the floral department of my local-ish craft store. Then I added the yarn by dabbing on a bit of craft glue and then wrapping into the craft glue - working about 1-2 inches at a time. I used plain craft yarn that I had left over from a Haloween costume, but you could use anything you've got around, and, in fact, the heavier - the better.

Afterward, I used some yellow baby yarn to wrap the branch and glued it to the wreath (covering the worst of the overlapping). A happy pink silk flower later and we were good to go. I wanted to add a birds' nest, but never found one that I liked. So I went with this. Rocket surgery it isn't. But I like it. This could be done with just about any colors you like. The total cost of the project was around $3 for the wreath form, since everything else I used was scrap. And the total time spent on the project was about 4 hours. (That yarn takes longer to wrap than you think it's going to - give yourself plenty of time.)

I'm already excited about fall and have about a million ideas for great fall wreaths. I can't wait! Tell me what hangs on your front door? Anything? The same thing year round? Or are you wreath obsessed too?

Friday, August 12, 2011

Five Things on Friday - Ridiculous Spending Edition

At approximately midnight last night, there was a loud crashing noise from the front portion of my house. The Husband and I both sat straight up in bed and looked at each other with alarm.

"You go, I'm in my underwear," he said to me.
"Whatever. You go. The girls need me to live more."

A few minutes later he got back and tumbled into bed.

"It's fine."
"Ooookay. Well, what was it?"
"The cats playing in the tub," this was muffled by whatever the manly version of giggling is.
"I cannot figure out for the life of me why they do that," I responded.
"Because the tub drips every once in a while and they like running water." he is ever the pragmatic one, even at midnight.
"When I'm rich, I'm going to buy one of those automatic cat water fountains," I responded. This, in turn set off a whole list of things we would buy if we were rich. Which was kind of funny and probably tells you more about me than an entire personality inventory.

Five Things I Would Buy If I Were Rich
    1. Retro Appliances - Of all the cool, but totally ridiculous things that I want for my kitchen (and trust me, there are a lot) this is probably the coolest and the most ridiculous. I don't know what the appeal is, but I really, really want appliances that are a fun color and look like they came straight from 1952 in a time machine. Like the Doctor brought my kitchen. I'm most swayed by fridge's, but ovens and even dishwashers have the capacity to make me drool. 
    2. Pens - I'm going to tell you this at the risk of sounding very, very cheap. I don't like to buy pens. Pens sort of happen. You know, politicians leave them in your door, banks hand them out, ones from work accidentally get stuck in your planner. But despite this, I am a lover of good pens. I'm not talking about fancy-schmancy silver pens or fountain pens or the type of pen you want to have on an interview. I'm talking about pens that make it enjoyable to write. My favorites are Uniball vision elites and I allow myself about one package a year. But someday, there will be maniacal laughter and I will own them in every color.
    3.One of those minivans you can move into - Yeah, that's right. Not only would I buy the same style vehicle I already have, but bigger and more ungainly too. I want an entertainment system, separate seat climate control, and some dohicky that could allow my kids to listen to Hannah Montanna to their hearts' content while I rock out to The Offspring - without the volume-knob-cuss-editing. Seating that folds flat into the floor? You betcha! Chairs that swivel around for eating or gameplaying? Of course! Sleeping gas in the backseat vents? Sign me up! I am all about some minivan magic.
    4.Two-hour shoes - My friend Jen loves shoes as much, if not more, than I do. She has waay more shoes than I do, though. Part of the reason for that is that she isn't feeding a pack of wild dogs kids. The other part is that she has this fabulous shoe rating system: by hours. An eight hour shoe is a good shoe for work. And all day shoe is good for walking. A four hour shoe should be saved for dates and parties. A two hour shoe is only good for a handful of occasions. I only own all day shoes, because I am too lazy and cheap for this rating system. I drool over shoes, but then I move on and buy another pair of black ballet flats. Why black? Because I'm too cheap for shoes that don't match everything in my wardrobe. Did I mention that I don't buy navy anything because that would require navy shoes?
    5.Craft Supplies - I have about 900 projects in my queue. Things I want to do, but can't yet because I need... Well, everything from ribbons to broken windows, from thread to cable spools, from fabric to palettes. Someday, I'll make a master shopping list and a priority list so I know what I need  - right now - to do the projects that matter most. In the meantime, I just constantly browse the yarn section. 
Okay, your turn? What would you spend the dough on if you didn't have to worry about money? What is the one ridiculous thing that would make your life tick? 

Thursday, August 11, 2011

Randomness

Okay, here's the deal. My tooth hurts. Really freakin' bad. One whole side of my face hurts, in fact and doing things like closing my mouth and turning my head cause me trauma. Since the dentist can't see me until Friday and in the meantime, lovingly recommended Tylenol for the immense amounts of throbbing pain, I'm taking leftover pain meds from when Maren was born. They knock me out. Then I spend the first half of the next day being miserably groggy and the second half being wicked unfocused. Oh, plus school started and I'm back to getting up at 5:45. The long and short of this is that you will not be getting an interestingly well-thought-out and cohesive blog post today. You'll be getting randomness. You've been warned.

Move over Chelsea!
So, the punishment haircut happened and it is precious. It makes her look 2 or 3 years older, which is still a good thing when you are six. I can see her eyes 90% of the time now and it is virtually tangle-proof. It gets out of bed cute. Brynna, despite being a little scared and sad about the whole process, got fully on board when I produced a picture of Chelsea Kane and reminded her that she used to play on Jonas. After the haircut was finished (7 inches, fwiw) she danced around the salon. Then she danced home and danced all the next day. I think I won. I'm not sure, because I'm wholey unused to winning, but there you have it. Momma won.

Speaking of winning, and my typical lack thereof... Brynna told me she was sick on the first day of school and I put it down to first day jitters and made her go to school. She had a migraine and threw up in class. On the first day of school. And, since she didn't have time to get to the bathroom, and hadn't yet figured out where the trashcan was, she thew up in her sweater. To keep it off the floor. So conscientious. Also, I lost that one.

I just realized that it's Thursday and I never got the "Making It!" post for this week done. Forgive me. I promise to do better.

I've spent the last two days trying to fix the copier. I have taken it apart, shook the toner cartridge and generally tried everything imaginable. I finally gave up and called the copier guy. I forgot to take out the paper strip that keeps toner from leaking all over the box. Now, I look like an idiot. It's okay. I pretty much am.

My addiction to Pinterest is reaching new heights. I'm going to need a twelve step program very soon. Anyone else obsessed? If not, you should be. Seriously, best internet invention since blogging. And you guys know how much I love blogging. You should check out my boards. They are still managable, but in a few weeks, I will have pinned the entire Internet. Get ready.

What about you? What's been randomly filling your mind this week?

Monday, August 8, 2011

A Short Treatise on Why Birthdays Are Important to Me

My mother stopped aging a few years back. She is now, eternally 29. I think that rocks. Because, literally, my mom stopped aging. It's not like she's some crazy yuppie with her heels stuck in her purse while she wears sneakers and a skirt suit to work, claiming eternal youth. She doesn't yell, "Getttoff my lawn..." or call people whippersnappers. She is who she is and she is 29.

I am 33. Sometimes it's hard being older than my mother. You may or may not know that my mother is my absolute heroine. She is the wind beneath my wings and other corny things. I strive to be just like her. Not because she's perfect, but because I even love and look up to her faults. Her faults are the kind of faults I want to have.

And, to some extent, every year I have the opportunity to just quit aging. To join my mother at eternal 29-ness. And every year I choose to keep going. This weekend, as we celebrated my brother and my birthday multiple times (because we are those people), I really got to thinking about why. Why it's important to me to keep aging. To not be 29 anymore. Even though in my soul, I believe I'm actually about 17.

First of all, I truly consider every year to be an accomplishment. Every year that I get through, that I survive and wake up a little wiser than last year is worthy of celebration. It's not that I'm so proud of myself for continuing to breathe for another year, it's that by the time August 3 rolls around, I feel like I deserve a little recognition. It seems like any more, every year is a hard year. I suppose some day I'll grow out of that, but in the meantime, I aim to spend that day breathing a sigh of relief that there's another year I don't have to re-live.

Secondly, there's something in me that needs to mark time. I often catch myself reciting like a litany, "I graduated high school at 17, college and marriage at 22, had and lost Ethan at 25, had Brynna at 26, Maren at 30..." I'm not sure why this is important to me, but I want to remember. When I had and left jobs. When my kids hit milestones. When I made changes. I don't want to forget these things. Deciding to remain 29 seems like giving up. From then on, everything would be when I was 29. I refuse to believe that there are no more events worth marking in my mental time line, so I need to keep counting.

Celebrating birthdays is important to me, because I think we all deserve a day set aside just for us. That's why I feel so sorry for those born on Christmas or their sister's birthday. We all need a very special day that is just ours. My mom still celebrates birthdays, though, she just doesn't age. I need the whole package.

Maybe I'll still change my mind. I think she was 32 when she decided to hold at 29. It's still possible. But for now, I'm content with growing a little older all the time.

Thursday, August 4, 2011

Chopped

Brynna has this thing with hair brushing. Part of it is that she has a really tender head and it hurts. Part is that she is melodramatic and makes a much bigger deal out of it than it is.

She's been "growing out her hair" for about a year. For about a year, I've been harping on her to brush her hair, she's been ignoring me and then after two or three days of this nonsense, I sit down and drag a brush through the tangled mess of hair which may or may not be playing host to a small family of birds and she screams like a banshee.

It's fun.

Not really.

Every time I do this - EVERY TIME, I swear that if she doesn't do a better job of keeping her hair brushed, I'm going to chop it off. The husband threatens to shave it. I always give in to the pleading and crying and promises to do better.

This is because I used to have to world's worst haircut. I wish I had a picture for your perusal, but alas, I've banned them from my house. It was short, kind of like a pixie cut, but too long in the back and it was curly. It never looked nice and it made me feel like a little boy in pink clothes. I hated it more than anything else in my early elementary years. I hated that haircut more than gym class and more than the bus and more than The Smurfs (which I loved for a few years and then became oddly derisive of, but refused to quit watching).

I am, simply put, sympathetic to her plight. I, too, wanted long hair. I, too, had a very sensitive head and much drama was had every time it must be brushed. The memory of the six year old me with that terrible shorn head has been preventing me from inflicting a similar fate on my darling daughter.

(By the way - traumatic hair cuts = first world problems, yo.)

But no longer. I have had it. I will not subject myself to the same horror morning after morning. I will not make the choice between horror movie screaming and a kid who looks like she has no mother and certainly not one who is a aware of basic grooming needs. I will not lose small brushes in the knots, go through a bottle of leave-in conditioner a week or discover random hair clips halfway through brushing anymore. I am making a stand. I am taking her to the salon.

But because of my aforementioned trauma, I am making this the nicest punishment ever. I am pre-selecting a handful of haircuts and she gets to pick which one she likes. If there are tears, I'll probably even work in some ice cream. (Because I am a big ole sucker and a terrible disciplinarian.)

And thus, my current trauma: finding said haircuts. My mom has sent me a couple and they are pretty nice. I've found a couple more. But I'm just not sure if any of them will work. Partially because they are all adult haircuts. Do you know what you get when you Google "little girl haircuts?" Go ahead, I'll wait. I'll tell you what you get - toddlers with bobs and teenagers. That's it. Where are the other haircuts? Does every small child in this varied country have a bob? Bobs with bangs, without bangs and with stupid bangs. Then, for good measure there are a couple of shots of girls with long hair or really crazy curly hair.

So, wish my child luck and think of her fondly on Tuesday, when her beloved locks of knots are chopped off. Hope we've found something good by then.

Wednesday, August 3, 2011

33 Things to do While I am 33

Where's my singing?
Today is my birthday! (Everyone cheer.) It's another year and I feel like nothing much has changed since last year. It doesn't seem like a whole year has even passed and I can't help but feel like time is slipping through my fingers faster than it used to. And I know, I know... That's just what happens when you get ancient like me. Fine, whatever. It's also what happens when you stop paying attention. I want to pay attention.

So, a couple months ago, I came across this idea and decided to adopt it for my very own. I wish I could find where I got it in the first place, but whatever...

33 Things to do While I am 33
1. Build something - like with wood and stuff
2. Start school - for realies
3. Go geocaching with Brynna
4. Write a book - even a bad one
5. Grow something - roses planted 7/25/2012
6. Fix my front flower beds - in progress
7. Fix the front of my house - so it looks like someone lives there
8. Sew something - 2/4/2012
9. Become that lady who is really good at sending greeting cards
10. Join my church
11. Find a new Sunday School teacher - so I can quit - sort of accomplished 9/30/11
12. Do a closet inventory
13. Paint the kitchen and cabinets
14. Make a will
15. Rebuild my emergency fund
16. Do something family funnish once a month - August - Legend's game, September - Brynna's birthday, October - Trick or Treat, November - Character Breakfast, December - Santa Claus visit, January - Movie Night!, February - Valentine's Story Time, March - FAIL, April - Easter Egg Hunt, May - Movie Night,
17. Take an actual trip which requires a bag - 3/29/2012
18. Track what I read
19. Read the Jane Yellowrock books
20. Crochet 5 Christmas presents
21. Learn to knit
22. Knit a scarf to prove that I can
23. Learn to smock
24. Make something smocked for the girls
25. Clean the basement
26. Make art
27. Finish Maren's bedroom - from last December ya'll
28. Go to a concert
29. Work out a cleaning schedule and stick to it - in progress
30. Learn to bake bread - not from a can
31. Have a girls' event
32. Walk a 10 mile day
33. Pay off credit cards - 2/16/2012

Not all of it sound exciting, but it all sounds good. To me, at least.

Tuesday, August 2, 2011

Apparently, I'm Usually Suzie Sunshine

Today, I was commenting on some work one of our vendors did for the nonprofit for which I work. I mentioned how terribly blown out one of the graphics was and how it was especially noticeable next to the other one, which was fine.

"I've never heard you be so negative," she responded.

"Well, I'm just a bastion of good cheer," I replied in my most non cheery monotone voice.

The good news is that she usually thinks I am apparently, because that wasn't even that negative.

It's weird, because I generally think of myself as a Negative Nelly, a Worrying Wanda, a Martha, rather than a Merry. I'm not sure why I come across as cheerful and upbeat to some people, when to me, it seems like I'm constantly losing the war against utter Eeyore-dom.

I feel like I'm a big ole whiner most of the time around here, for instance. I feel like I am constantly pointing out what is wrong, rather than what is right. I'm the first to say that I can't go because I'm broke. The first to say that I'm struggling. The first to curl up pitifully and say that I'll clean the house tomorrow.

I wonder if I'm different at work, or if I'm different than my perception of me.