My Life in Song

Six o'clock already
I was just in the middle of a dream
I was kissin' Valentino
By a crystal blue Italian stream

Back to life, back to reality
Back to life, back to reality
Back to life, back to reality
Back to the here and now yeah

We've got to hold on to what we've got
'Cause it doesn't make a difference
If we make it or not
We've got each other and that's a lot
For love - we'll give it a shot

I refuse to believe that we're only here to live and die
In the futile days of a faithless haze
Never asking why, why would I
When I've felt the hand of eternity
Its a legacy I will leave, I want to leave
For the children of the world
Every single little boy and girl
Heaven plants a special seed
And we must have faith for these

I will get down on my knees and I will pray
I will get down on my knees and I will pray
I will get down on my knees and I will pray

And I ran
I ran so far away
I just ran
I ran all night and day (actually I hate to run but I love this song)

I hear babies cry
I watch them grow
They'll learn much more
Than I'll ever know
And I think to myself
What a wonderful world

Is anybody out there
Does anybody care
Oh, I just gotta know
If you're really there and you really care

Don't Hate Me Because I'm Lazy

Ahem, is this thing still on? Feels like it's been ages since I've had a coherent thought.

Swimming ended about two weeks ago, and along with that, my drive to wake up in the morning. For the first time in maybe 3 years, we had nothing on our schedules. No school, no soccer, no swimming, no music, no agenda.

It was such a shock to our systems after running around for so long that we did what anyone in our situation would naturally do. We lolled about the house for about a week. Actually, we're still lolling, except I have to periodically dash to the toilet with my baby and hold his weewee down so that it doesn't spray in my face.

I only started the potty training so that I could declare to the husband that I was doing something useful during the day. Besides reading fiction books and catching up on my Hulu shows, I mean. Lucky for me, potty training is just about the only activity that requires us to stay home consistently.

Pretty soon, though, it'll be back to our usual craziness. School's about to start for the two oldest. We've decided to homeschool both of them and see how it works out. Which means I have to get curriculum plans all done. Which means I have to buy the curriculum. I guess I should decide on the curricula soon. Just thinking about it makes me want to take a nap.

Will you look at the time? It just so happens to be naptime!

The Future's So Bright, I Gotta Wear Shades

Before and After

Before

My younger daughter has always had short hair. Her hair is thin and fine, so any untrimmed growth appears scraggly. At least, that is what my mother-in-law says. Any time my daughter's hair has grown out just a little bit, there my MIL was with the scissors.

We would drop my daughter off to be babysat, and when we picked her up, her hair would be hacked off. It got to the point where the husband would warn his mother not to cut our girl's hair while we were gone. The problem was, after a few months, we would naively think that my MIL actually didn't need this warning anymore. Big mistake.

Notice her bangs, courtesy of her grandmother.
That's okay, it's just hair, right? And hair grows back. It grows and grows and...
Bam! It gets chopped off again.
Uh-oh, she's starting to look like a girl.

This week, my mother-in-law did it again.

I wouldn't have minded the haircut so much, except that it was very crooked. Did I say crooked? Actually, I meant TOTALLY, UTTERLY BUTCHERED. One side was about 2 inches shorter than the other side, and long strands that were missed by my MIL dangled everywhere.

It was so bad that I couldn't bring myself to take a picture. I didn't want to traumatize my poor girl when she grows up. I didn't want her to say, what in the world did you guys do to me?

It was so bad that I didn't dare fix her hair out myself. I paid for a professional to do it. Not just any professional, but the most expensive one that specializes in children's hair. It was the first time any of our kids have ever been to a children's barber. That's how hacked off my daughter's hair was.

The hairstylist was worth it, though. She took a complete monstrosity and turned it into something cute.

After
Plus, the hairstylist gave my girl a luxurious shampoo. Luxurious in this case to mean in which no water or shampoo ends up in one's eyes. She also put flowers all over my girl's hair. And allowed everyone to play with their vast collection of toys.

So now my other kids are begging their grandmother to cut their hair.

In the case that a certain someone reads this and gets the wrong idea, let me just say that I absolutely love and adore my mother-in-law. She may cut the children's hair badly horrifically, but she takes excellent care of the rest of their bodies.

Still, the husband will be removing all scissors from her house and inscribing a plaque for her birthday that says Do Not Touch the Children's Hair.

A Different Take

My turn, my turn! I do, I do!

When Mommy and Daddy were running around the house throwing stuff all over the place, I had no idea that they were busy packing and loading up the car, and that I would have to sit in the carseat or stroller for a whole week. Good thing I don't like to walk on my own much anyway.

The drive was kind of fun. I got to kick the dvd player and eat a lot of junk food (yummy chicken nuggets) that Mommy normally does not give me. Plus I got to tear up napkins and throw them all over the car. Mommy was usually asleep, and Daddy was too busy driving to notice. We sang songs, looked at the clouds (I saw a dinosaur!), and played games. I won every single one, too, as soon as I started crying.

The hotels were fun, too. We got to watch cartoons that we normally don't and jump all over the bed. I got the large bed with Mommy and Daddy every time. After all, that's how it is at home.

Everything was great until I got sick.
I was really mad that I got sick.
It was Mommy and Daddy's fault.
And also my sisters' and brother's fault.
I didn't feel like doing anything after that.
I didn't want to even leave the hotel in the morning.
I just wanted to lie down all day. The porch was a nice spot for that.
No way did was I going to smile for the camera.
Well, maybe just one teeny one. For Mommy and Daddy, because they were so understanding and gave me whatever I wanted. But only one.

Home Sweet Home

After the Grand Canyon, we drove straight home. But first we stopped in hell for dinner.This was in Needles, CA, the first city in CA on highway 40, which is the old Route 66. For the life of me, I cannot understand why anyone would choose to live here. Unless they're in the air-conditioning business.

We sweated through dinner, as it was a balmy 90 degrees inside the restaurant. The air-conditioner was working, it had just reached its maximum cool down threshold.

Are we there yet? We're hot and hungry and thirsty and tired and bored and cold.

The rest of the drive was forgettable. We were so glad to be home. I almost kissed our carpet. Home, with all of its stained carpets and broken closet doors, never looked so good.

It took me a few days to unpack and clear everything out of the car. Actually, I'm still working on it. Just a few more loads of laundry, and I should be done.

Who am I kidding, the laundry is never done.

What a trip. It was...intense. The long drive, our suffering from our colds, the beauty of every single state we drove through except for Nevada, the 24/7 time we spent together in close quarters...it was all intense.

Is intense good? I'm still figuring that out. But first I have to do another load of laundry.