Good-bye Skullet!

No more skullet on the little man of the house!  Shout hooray!  A little string cheese, an uncle/barber and an audience...

Almost there....

ta da!!

Handy

Made this after seeing a similiar one online on a craft blog.

Liv said people were staring at me while I assembled it on the floor at the D.I.  and  people were going to laugh when they came over.

I still like it.

We are a group of do-it-yourselfers.  Mae took that and ran... with scissors.

Her hair now parts on the right.

Patron Saint of Sleep, Tinkerbell, whomever is out there in the universe, send sleepy vibes to the littlest man.


When our story began I was more like

Or so I've been told.  O.k. one guy told me I kinda looked like her, another one said I sounded like her. Noah's crying.  Just a minute... (Once friend told me I looked most like Gina Davis and later said Gina Davis was ugly.  I will not picture Gina Davis.)  Add a cap sleeve, 25 lbs., and some scattered adult acne.  Close enough.


Noah wakes up twice each night around 2 or 3, and again around 5.  He finally wakes again when the kids get up for school.  In the cruelest twist of fate, for about two weeks he did sleep through the night.  Then he changed his mind.  Hold on... I have to raspberry his cheek.

He proceeds to cry for the next 13 hours unless held (with all one's devoted attention), fed, or napping.  It's like fingernails on a chalkboard.  One more sec.  Liv's going to walk him around while I finish typing.

Last night after he peed out of the top of his diaper at 4:30 I found the drawstring from my paint splattered sweatpants tickling the ground when I walked back to bed.  I think that in my sleep I was creating a noose.  On a happy note, I dreamt I had a fantastic run.

I thought wildman allergic-to-milk Isaac was a tough crowd.  He had nothing on the No-ster.

This is the self portrait I took this morning (the camera takes off 10 lbs. give or take 150).  If you see me out of the house on a caffiene run Just got him back.  Kissing fat cheeks. pretend you don't.  It's the humane thing to do.

and he's taking his first nap, gotta run.

Don't judge.

Link

As you all know, I straightened my hair pre-Thanksgiving. It started curling up again and I tried to make it work for me, but it just wasn't right with some here, some there, some straight, some curly. So I went to Jason's beloved hippie MaryBeth, who is just darling and she permed me.

So, here is the link to my hair blog in case you're interested in seeing my new look. Isn't it FABULOUS!?

To be honest, it makes me look younger. Like 12. I should have said something when the curlers were going in. Poor MaryBeth has never seen me. She is Jason's go-to girl for a wash, deep condition, blow dry, and splitting of the eyebrows. She thought it would look more natural this way (a spiral). This is not natural.

As I've told a few friends, I'm pretending like I'm a supermodel and I wanted to look like this.

I did it

I got that perm and I used it. I went with short spaghetti. hmm. Not sure I like it. Don't completely hate it. It looks best when I hide half of it behind cute Georgia's face.

Hey, notice that George and I have the same jaw line and close mouths. Too bad from there on up I'm not a look-a-like.

Pick your Pasta

Fusilli

Or

Spaghetti?

And What about the

Long

and

Short of it?

What do you think? Since the invention of the Chi (I saw one in action on Naloni this week and WOW!), I think I could pull off a straight (but short), doo (not like poo, maybe do?). But, I sometimes feel like a traitor to the cause of curls everywhere when I straighten things out. HOWEVER, the top of my hair has pulled some treachery of its own lately.

As we speak I have a perm solution sitting in a Sally bag on my bathroom floor. This could go either way folks.

Let me talk this through with you.
1. I want to pull off a hairstyle. Not blow-dry-it-and-see-what-happens.
2. I want to own said hairstyle just like Kate on John and Kate Plus Eight (thought I'm not sure anyone else could own that hairstyle.
3. I am a total control freak when it comes to my hair. Nothing flowing.
4. I need to draw attention away from my ever-protruding gut of horror. Maybe I should add some lime Kool-Aid dye to this mix. (that's another conversation).
5. I have a gut and I'm getting a hair cut. AAAAHGGGHHH! I'm a housewife! (and no wonder I chose a pasta analogy).
6. I know, go to the gym and get extensions.

Now really, what do you think? I'm stuck.