And Yeah, It's Pink...

So things have been pretty uninteresting around here lately, but I was finally able to get away and get my hair done this weekend (It was BAD, like live in a hat BAD). I went to a new hairdresser who has done a friends hair for a long time and loves color and having fun with it. Worked out PERFECTLY since she's almost 75% less than my last hairdresser who apparently had a major auditory processing disorder. It didn't matter what I asked that chick, I'd leave with the same level of conservative mommy-highlights every time. And sometimes you just want something a little different. Like, say, pink highlights...

Yeah, That's Pink Alright.

Ok, I do have to go home for Christmas, so you know I couldn't do my WHOLE head that color. Instead we just did a little piece. There's that whole new trend where you wear a clip-in piece of hair that's a totally crazy color. Which makes me think that today's "Punk" kids are total sissies for not actually dying their hair. Plus I'm wayyy too lazy to clip something like that in (yes, I did even buy one in blue, used it once, wayyy too lazy). The result...I'm working on my self-portraiture - this is actually much darker than it should be (the pink and my hair are both lighter than they appear here). But I kindof like it. And I told her maybe next time we'd go for Blue. Fin wants to come with me...

A Sunrise

I know, I've been gone a few days. But Christmas planning has me tied up, I promise, I'll have something more interesting to say soon!

Twinkle, Twinkle, My Little Star

Last week Fin came home with the words to the song that his class will be performing in the Christmas Pageant in two weeks. It's basically a Christmas version of "Twinkle, Twinkle", which is smart because EVERY kid knows how that one goes. Unfortunately for me, Fin was more than a little irked that they had changed the words on him.

After putting the boys down for a nap, I stood in the kitchen staring at the lyrics weighing my options. I could pretend I'd never seen them and let the teacher teach the song. Or, I could help my kid learn it and be that parent who makes her kid sing it three times a day. Ultimately, I love the sound of my child singing way too much to pass up an opportunity to hear it more often.

It's been a week and Fin's mastered it. Last night I decided he should hold a concert for us. So I popped him up on his stage (our bed) and we found seats in the audience (on the floor) and Fin began. He got through the first verse and stopped.

"Hey, there are NO BABIES ALLOWED at MY SHOW!"

This was very clearly directed at Dash who was on my lap.

"But Fin, Dash would be sad if he missed your show."

Child looks at parents thoughtfully and continues on his song. Then again stops.

"Ok, get ready, this is the END!"

Parents try to control laughter through the last verse.

Then later, while in the tub, Fin looks at me, squints, and says:

"Ok, babies CAN come to my show, but only if they have clean diapers. I don't want any stinky wees or poopies at my show" (turns to Dash) "You hear me Dash, you can't have any poopies at my show so make sure mommy puts clean pants on you."

We can't wait.

Preschool Christmas

After much thought and polling, I decided to do Starbucks gift cards for Fin's Preschool teachers. To make them just a tad more personalized, I bought the photo tumblers and used Digital Scrapbooking supplies to do the fillers - a teacher friend told me that everyone enjoys a picture of their students so here's hoping that's true! In case anyone is interested, here are my favorite finds for digital scrapbooking supplies:

Digi-Free: http://digifree.blogspot.com/

Sweet Blossom Designs: http://sweetblossomdesigns.blogspot.com/

A Work in Progress: http://vicki20.blogspot.com/

Does Size Matter?

As we arrived home from our walk today, I was super excited to find a package waiting for us. I had won an awesome Ebay auction that was a 12 piece lot of new-with-tags Zutano duds for Dash. When I opened the box, the stuff looked big - it was supposed to be 18-24 mo, but most of it was straight up 24 month. And because Dash HATES being dressed, much less "trying things on", I decided to see if they fit Fin. And they did. The WHOLE lot of it.


My three year old can wear all 24 month stuff.


Now before anyone chimes in with a "it must run big", he's also still wearing pants from the Gap and Children's Place that are 24 month. And his friends TOWER over him. People look at me incredulously when he tells them how old he is. I actually had someone ask me last week if he was a preemie. (FYI, no he wasn't, he was born 7lbs and plenty long) And why do people think it's acceptable to say crap like that anyway. Even today some dude told me that his one-year-old was bigger. Is that supposed to be funny? I'm seriously considering redirecting him to tell people he's one.

And before you tell me that he'll have a growth spurt and I should quit worrying (and last time I checked, worrying was in the job description), know that I was once the same height as my classmates. I just stopped growing somewhere around 8. My brother was once taller than most of his classmates too, I think he stopped growing by 10. And in case you needed an exact figure, I'm 4"11...and a half. When Woob and I decided to get married, I joked with him that part of my husband selection process was adding some height to my gene pool. He's tall-ish. And it's not like my parents are particularly short, but there are a fair number of people in my fam that don't achieve 5'5.

Yes, I hope that I'm rereading this in ten years and laughing about how Fin's now a giant manchild, but for now I have to plan for other futures. I was reading a heated online debate recently on growth hormones. I was amazed at how many people felt like taking growth enhancers was messing with mother nature. And more so that the vast majority of those people were a)not short b)not the parents of short children and/or c)not the parents of short boys. And if taking hormones is messing with mother nature, then what about hearing aids? Glasses? Fertility treatments?

And yes, I made a distinction between boys and girls. I know what the suck factors are about being a short girl. Woob even integrated "cute" into our wedding vows just to irritate me (I HATE CUTE!). But, as my mother was always quick to point out, at least I could wear high heels and never have to worry about being taller than my date. For a man? Not so much. And when I worry about my boys being short, it's not like I'm worrying that they won't get to six foot. As a friend put it, I just want them to "blend."

Then there's the argument of "it builds character". To which I recall any other "aid" that might thwart mother nature - I can't imagine telling a deaf person that to restore their hearing would impede their character. Then again, my father's father was short but you never really noticed it - his personality was huge. When he spoke to you, you felt like the only person in the room and he could make you feel like the most beautiful woman on the planet with one complement. He was a great man. Would he have been different if he had been taller? Who knows?

Yes, he's only 3, but if the next three years go by as quickly as the first three, then we, our family and my child, will have some choices to make. Is it wrong to just want to make life as easy as possible for your kids? To want to smooth this one wrinkle (for which I feel more than a little responsible)? What do you think?