Thursday, May 28, 2009

Hair woes

I am literally counting the hours until my haircut this weekend. It's been over 2 months since my last cut and I've had a run of bad hair days lately that are bringing me down!
Since I'm not trendy or stylish with clothing, jewelry, or makeup, my hair is my default accessory. I know it's completely vain and ridiculous but if I like how my hair looks when I head out the door in the morning, I have a much better chance of enjoying my day. Lately I've been relying on hats and lipgloss way too much to save me from despair. The final straw was having a hard time falling asleep a couple of nights ago because I was thinking about how much I wish I'd worn my (then long) hair down on my wedding day. If only I were kidding.

I have short hair.

With short hair, you essentially have a new look every 3 weeks or so, because a mere half an inch of growth completely changes the way it lays, responds to product, etc. What's more, with my hair I've learned that it handles best when it is colored as well because that changes the texture and gives my fine hair a little body. But I simply can't justify expensive haircut/colors every month. In my experience, short haircuts on women require a very good stylist who knows what he/she is doing - and the good ones aren't cheap.

*sigh*

This is why I let my hair get long again after my first few years of having it short. I do like my hair short - once I got over the fear most women have of cutting their hair (I swear it must be some primal connection to when we were dragged into caves or something) I was very happy with the results. Granted, my inspiration to chop it came from a couple of friends of mine in college who looked absolutely amazing with their hair short. Honestly - I wanted to be brave, bold and beautiful so badly that I went to their very scary, Harley-driving, sleeve-tattooed, septum-pierced, built-like-a-bull-dog, butch lesbian hairdresser and gave her carte blanche to transform me! At least I had guts, right?

So yesterday I called my new stylist (this will be cut #4 with him and I do believe I'm in a committed relationship) and got an appointment.
I'm actually at that annoying point where I'm thinking "hmmm...maybe he can help me transition back into a style that I can grow long again." Bad idea, Janine. I think some of my worst hair months were during the in-between times while I was going from short to long. Somewhere around chin length is just a nightmare for me.

Anyway, then I scoured the web for inspiration. Here are a bunch of haircuts that I like. (yes, I'm aware that these are models and there is great likelihood that some dude in skinny jeans carefully pulled every strand of their hair into place for these photos). At this point I really have no idea what I'll end up with on Saturday, but no matter what, it will be better than the shaggy mess I'm currently sporting.

And you know what kills me? I can guarantee without a shred of doubt that on Saturday, I'll be having a good hair day. It happens every time - the day of my haircut, the stars align and it looks great. It would be funny if it weren't infuriating.

Wednesday, May 20, 2009

from the mouths of babes...

Eating one of her favorite things.

Being adorably snuggly with Grandma

Watching Sesame Street.

Here are some of the things Sadie has said lately that I find particularly worthy of being remembered:

"We're a family." during a recent group cuddle with mommy and daddy.
"Can you stand up, mama?" when I sat down on the couch while rocking her to Brahms' lullaby the other night. (she's getting heavy!)
"Ready?" when we're playing catch/roll with a ball.
"I like broccoli. I like waffles. I like ______." as she's eating said item.
"Coooookiee Monnnnsterrrr!" in her version of his voice.
"
Sure, absolutely." repeating me when I promise we'll go to the park again soon.
"Watch Sesame Street right now? Little bit?" sweetly asking to watch.
"I fink so." when she thinks so.
"I'm funny! I'm funny! I'm funnnnnnny!" talking to Aunt Joanne on the phone.
and this morning:
"Let's go in the kitchen and have some cow's milk. Right now. Okay."

In the interest of full disclosure, I feel I must admit that the phrase that prompted this post was not my favorite. She's been getting really silly lately and seems to like experimenting with alliteration. (how's that for a parental twist to explain obnoxious behavior?) She somehow came up with "peanut butter poo poo" and was repeating it ad nauseam for a few days. It was driving me a little crazy and challenging my "just ignore it" skills big time.

There are so many more things she says that amuse and astound us. It's beyond fun to be her parent right now. These are just a few examples of why I'm so glad I get to be a stay at home mama.

Thursday, May 14, 2009

Grace

This morning I attended a funeral service for my friends' daughter who had a birth defect that made life outside the womb impossible. Her name was Grace.

Her death was not a surprise, and my friends were as prepared as they possibly could be when she and her identical (and perfectly healthy) twin sister were born last Friday. In the birth announcement email, her father said "although she lived only a few hours, she was perfect, and very, very strong. She did not suffer and passed peacefully. She was kissed over 10,000 times by daddy alone."

I knew without a shadow of a doubt that I wanted to attend this service in support of my friends, but I was not sure how it could possibly be anything but heartbreaking and devastating. In my experience, funerals have always been presented as celebrations of life. I wondered to myself, "how can they do this for Grace, who only lived for eight and a half hours?"
It was a heavily ritualized and very moving Greek Orthodox service with chant-like singing and call & response between the priest and the congregation. The priest gave an intense address in which he very pointedly proclaimed that it is a human error to think of our lives as our own. He said they are not, never were and never could be. He said the fact of the matter is that we never had the chance to express our desire to live or not; it just happened, and our life belongs to God. It's all very profound to me, and I was starting to feel the weight of this dogma and rhetoric when something surprised me. The priest began speaking about the fact that Grace was born directly to God and that she was immediately born into her new and everlasting life with God. He almost shouted with joy as he proclaimed that she was flying with the angels. It gave me chills.

I doubt that there was a dry eye in the church when Grace's father carried in her handmade wooden casket and set it at the altar among dozens of baby pink roses. When he gave the eulogy, there was palpable compassion in the air. I wish I could remember everything he said. He said that there are no words to describe the emotion that he and his family were feeling. Grief, yes. Loss, yes. Incredible sadness, yes. But also a sense of joy. He spoke of his wife's incredible courage and strength from the first day they learned of Grace's condition, something which is certainly something that I witnessed every time I visited her in the last few months. He looked right at her and said, "I love you more than words or measure." He spoke of their faith in God's plan - knowing that Grace would live as long as He intended her to live. He said that he knows that God knows there is no anger or bitterness behind his words when he says he wishes he could have Grace back. He said that their beautiful family of five will always remain a family of six.

Grace:
Etymology:Middle English, from Anglo-French, from Latin gratia favor, charm, thanks, from gratus pleasing, grateful; akin to Sanskrit grnāti he praises
Date: 12th century

1 a: unmerited divine assistance given humans for their regeneration or sanctification
b
: a virtue coming from God
c: a state of sanctification enjoyed through divine grace

Sunday, May 10, 2009

Mother's Day 2009

I had a wonderful Mother's Day.
First, I got woken up by Sadie climbing on me and giving me kisses. She's gotten into saying "good morning, mama!" which is quite simply the BEST way to wake up. Ever.
She immediately handed me bright pink envelope and announced "that's a card!" Andrew and she had worked on it together. Inside it were beautiful, colorful, chaotic scribbles from her and sweet, appreciative, loving words from him. My heart swelled.

We got ourselves together and headed out to the mystery destination Andrew had chosen to take us for breakfast, but when we got there it became apparent that about 40 other families had the same idea. So we walked a few blocks

and decided on a tiny little French place which serves crepes.
(and champagne)
It was perfect. We sat next to a nice couple who were celebrating their 1st Mother's Day with a 10 month old little girl. They seemed completely baffled by the fact that only one year separated our daughters. Sadie was quite taken with the baby and began tickling her legs and talking in a high pitched voice to her.
After a delicious breakfast, we wandered around for a bit to kill some time. We checked out the Cardinal Hotel lobby, which I'd never seen before. Sadie was particularly fond of the leather chairs.
Before too long, it was time for me to head to the theater for the closing performance of The Cocktail Hour. It was a small audience, but I think we ended on a high note. Strike was fast and easy. I got my check and headed home to pick up Sadie and go have dinner at my parents' house. My mom was just getting in from out of town and wasn't expecting us, so it was fun to surprise her. My dad and Jill took care of everything. I got to sit outside & relax, listening to the sounds of evening and watching Sadie in all of her busy toddler glory. Dinner was fantastic (steak, grilled artichokes, corn, sourdough bread, and salad followed by cheesecake with fresh raspberries.)

Sadie helped Grandma open her cards and gifts, and we called it a night.


I love my mom and I love being a mom.
I am a daughter and I have a daughter.
Existing in the middle of those two relationships is pretty darn cool.

Friday, May 8, 2009

S-T-R-E-S-S....at the playground?

I got SO stressed out yesterday - at the playground.

I met a dear friend and her 2.5 year old at a park near their house which was new to us. When I arrived, I was delighted to see that it had plenty of shade, a great sand area, and the best part: the toddler area was gated.
Before too long we noticed that it was getting pretty crowded - it seems that a moms group had descended with their children who all seemed to be around 2 years old. I initially thought this was great, but it got chaotic quickly. There was one young, fit, tattooed mom who was basically in the thick of it - playing tag/chase with the older kids. The rest stayed on the periphery chatting, with the occasional dash into the fray to break up a tug-o-war over a shovel or pick up and dust off someone who'd fallen down.
I had made the mistake of bringing some things for Sadie to play with which immediately became objects of attention for the other kids. Sadie is pretty passive and ends up getting things taken from her by other kids all of the time at parks, etc. I generally try not to hover and step in every time this happens, because I want her to get a sense of the world as it is. I will get involved if the interaction is overly aggressive or intentionally mean (at this age, it's usually not - kids just take what looks interesting to them). She seems bewildered at first and then gets visibly frustrated, but she doesn't usually grab the item back. She actually asks for it back, which of course gets wholly ignored by the tiny perpetrator. Luckily, there were about 4 different Bucket/Shovels and plenty of extra sand toys that were being shared. Sadie is in a sand loving phase right now, so I was able to distract her with that while other kids kicked her ball and pushed her stroller around.

Anyway, the moms group seemed like a nice group of gals and they all seemed to be watching out for each other's kids, which I thought was cool. I love seeing any and all examples of "it takes a village" philosophy in action. However, there were a few tumbles, some tears, and a good deal of shouting. I think the shouting is what puts me on edge most.

After a while, Sadie wanted a snack, so I set out a few of her things on a bench and kept talking to my friend. All of a sudden I looked down, and a little boy had wandered over and picked up her water bottle. I was able to get it just before he put it in his mouth. I knelt down and said "hey there! that's her water bottle - and remember, we don't share things we put in our mouths, right?" all the while glancing around for his mom to appear. He seemed unphased thankfully (I suppose he could have screamed bloody murder when I took the water away from him) so I kept mommy-talking to him. "This is Sadie. She's having a snack. Did you bring a snack to the park today? Where's your snack?" etc. still waiting for his mom to pop into the interaction. Finally I offered him one of Sadie's Bunny Cookies and BAM! out of nowhere comes this woman (his mother) frantically saying "He's allergic to peanuts!" and grabbing the cookie out of his hand. He hadn't eaten it yet, but I was rattled because I've heard of kids who swell up and can't breathe if they even get a crumb of something that has peanuts in it or was processed in a facility that also handles nuts, etc. I mumbled something like, "oh, I'm so sorry - I didn't think of that" as she hurried him away. I felt about this big.
My friend gave me a reassuring mother-to-mother supportive look and I felt better. All was fine until a few more minutes later when the kid reappeared at my feet with a handful of Sadie's cookies and one in his mouth! I freaked and immediately grabbed a piece of paper towel and began desperately fishing the food out of his mouth - all the while picturing myself in some horrible altercation with the mom trying to explain A) how I'd managed not to see him take the cookie and B) why I had my fingers in her son's mouth. Shudder.

Well, that did it for me. We packed up and got out of there. I'll have to think twice the next time I decide to take Sadie to the park; it's certainly not relaxing for mama!