The White House

The White House

Wednesday, February 15, 2012

The Little Things


What a day…. and, of course, I forgot to take a lot of photographs along the way.

Last night my daughter insisted we strip her hair of the black her SM had dyed it. Now, I don’t blame the SM (how easy would that be?), my daughter asked her to do it, but man, don’t ever dye blond hair black. 28 washes my a$$ (as a friend so well put it). So, after a bit of arguing that we don’t do it late at night, I lost and we did.

Her hair was orange. With black polka dots. Just horrid. So horrid we didn’t even take a photo of it because no woman wants a reminder of looking that bad.

And I made her got to school. She was not happy, but she had a math test and education triumphs looking bad. I did, however, make an appointment, made arrangements for her to take the test at lunch and picked her up for a big hair fixing.

Took Em to the hair wonder worker. Left her. Met Nick to give him money. Picked Olivia up at school. Went back to Em. Left Em to pick up Elijah and take him to the barber. Olivia is playing on my phone while we wait for him (for an hour in the truck) to get a haircut.


We were in the truck because Lucas had already be drug around for three hours and he feel asleep. (What a messy truck!!).


He feel asleep hard!


He perfected his mullet. I asked him why in the hell would he want a mullet? His response? Why would I want the same haircut everyone else at school has? No one else has a mullet with stripes. Yep, he wins that argument.


After 4.5 hours, three stripping's, one coloring, one highlight, a haircut and $217 later my daughter is back to (better than) normal. She is happy. Her smile is back. She has layers. This is what she wants. And why?



She is leaving tomorrow to go on vacation with the HEX and WSM to Arizona to see her Grandma Judy. She wanted to be the blond little girl Grandma KNOWS.

Genetics don’t lie. She is her Grandma. She has her fine blond hair. Long thin legs. Her beauty. In fact, she looks exactly like her beautiful Aunt Tanya. Who looks exactly like her beautiful Mom, Judy. And Aunt Terri. While one may fall out of love with their spouse, if you have a heart, as I do, you do not fall out of love with your daughter’s family. And for that reason, and my daughter’s very soul, I COULD NOT, let her go on vacation with orange hair with polka dots. Hell no I couldn’t afford that fixin’, but whatever sacrifices I have to make from now on are worth her smile and fun times on her trip.

And, God, please give me my breath back because she hasn’t even flown away yet and I miss her more than you can understand. (Or if you are a parent, I guess you do).

Em took some photos tonight of Sophie. Good Lord, you can’t even tell she had a bath. What a fluffy rag dog. Man, I don’t think we could love this dog any more than we do. Her personality is out of this world.



Nick made sure he came home in time for the season opener of Survivor. We have had this tradition of watching it since it started in 2000. He may not even care about it anymore, but he knows how important it is to me that we do this TOGETHER. Even his friends know how much it means to me. We pick sides; contestants; shout at the television. Weird way to bond, but we have lots of memories and it’s a conversation starter (and trust me, when they grow up you’ll be glad you have a way to start a conversation). (Personally, I think the guys are going to kick the girls’ all the way to the end and then some chick will swoon the last two men and win).

Really love my bugga-boos. Emily being gone will really hit the little ones next week when they are expecting her back. Life always seems like it is rushing by, doesn’t it?

1 comment:

Martha in PA said...

Teen girls and their hair! I am thankful that my daughter has a friend who is taking cosmetology at school and whose mother is in the business, saves me lots of $$$ for the coloring whims she gets!

We love Survivor too. Tara started "watching" with me when she was only two! The men vs the women twist this season is interesting.