It would be one thing if this happened just once, but I gave a Vulcan haircut to Lily several times as well. I just need to call it quits. I can not cut bangs. They always end up 2 inches shorter than my goal. How does it happen? I’m sure the squirming kids don’t help, but I go in for a fraction of an inch and come away with inches and inches gone.
Professional trims only from here on out. I didn’t even want her to have bangs, but she rejects ponytails most days and the messy hair was driving me crazy. But nowhere near as crazy as her current Vulcan look.
Everyone warned me that when I had kids, I wouldn’t be able to hold a conversation. I had kids four years before this became true. Lily usually clams up around other adults, but if Rose sees me talking to someone, she wants to talk too. She talks endlessly and extremely loudly about nothing. She wants to be sure people know her name and look at her. What does this mean for the future? Only time will tell. Lily has caught on to this attention-grabbing tactic and now employs it when I’m on the phone, but she’s still timid enough of my grown-up friends to stay pretty quiet in their presence. For now.
Sadly, we couldn’t figure out how to open the monkey cage to let her in there with her peers.
Boy, the Terrible Twos have hit hard here. I’m getting payback for Lily not really having a Terrible Twos. Trying Threes, sure. Terrible Twos? Not so much. Rose sure knows how to throw a tantrum. She should write a book about how to do it properly.
Lily is right, she’s gotten easier, but I don’t know if it would be a fair assessment to call herself “The Easy One”.
We used to have this problem every time we were on our way back to Northwest Ohio from Northwest Indiana on the Indiana Tollway.
For the first four years we lived here, there was no rest stop on I80 for at least 50 miles east of the Ohio border. It was awful. We learned to stop at the last rest stop in Indiana no matter what because there as absolutely nowhere to stop in Ohio until we were practically home.
Well, now they FINALLY built a rest stop closer to the border in Ohio and it has THE BEST CHANGING STATION EVER.
These side-by-side changing stations are in a wide aisle in a hallway that connects two separate aisles of stalls at the back of the restroom. Most people in the restroom would never walk through this hallway. They would enter either aisle of stalls from the front of the restroom. The changing stations don’t block sinks or stalls. They don’t put your child’s butt on display for people the second they walk into the restroom. They are close to garbage cans for easy diaper disposal. They don’t accidentally set off any automatic hand dryers or sinks. You have plenty of room to do your job AND two people can change diapers at once.
I was way too excited about the discovery of this changing station. And this rest stop. I can’t tell you how happy this makes me. Public restroom designers of the world, take note: This is how it should be done.
(Click to enlarge)
The baby spiders were so newly hatched that they were almost microscopic. The first couple days, I vacuumed the ceiling and the windows at least twice a day. Every time I’d look, I’d find more of them. I haven’t seen many lately, but I’m sure they are still around, growing bigger every day, plotting to create even MORE baby spiders in my house.
Disturbing/funny side effect: Now whenever Lily sees the vacuum she says “Are you going to kill more spiders? You need the vacuum to kill all the spiders!”
I’m such a bug murderer. I appreciate what spiders do outside my house (although there are FAR too many of them and they are WAY too big), but if they come inside they’re going down.
Oops, now it’s Sunday and we only just did the scanning (I say “we” because my husband is the scanning pro). Friday Funnies shouldn’t be late again… at least not for the next 3-4 weeks because he scanned ahead.
This happened to us on Friday night at a preschool function.
Holy un-PC moment!
The boy involved was the son of someone in my husband’s department. His hair was so long and beautiful and his features so delicate that even my husband and I weren’t entirely sure if he was a boy or a girl when we met him until we realized his shirt was as masculine as his name (Though, if his name were two letters different, we may have still been confused.).
He was perfectly nice to Lily, but I guess she’s never seen a boy her age with long hair before and it freaked her out. After this embarrassing public encounter, we talked about how some boys have long hair and some girls have short hair. I know things can get a lot more complicated than that, but for now that explanation will have to do.
Needless to say, I hope she’s a lot nicer the next time a kid who’s a little different wants to play with her.
Whenever my family compares my children to me, it never seems to be about anything positive. I guess my husband brought all the good genes into the mix?
I know my family is trying to tease me, but still.
This is a true story of something that happened to me when I was a newspaper reporter in a small town in Indiana.
Within the span of five minutes in the same outfit in the same setting, someone thought I was 18 and someone thought I was at least 40. At 25, I was insulted by both assumptions! At almost 32, I wish I was still mistaken for a high school student.
A couple weeks ago, we ran into a little boy who shares Lily’s REAL first name, or at least the nickname for it. Lily and Rose go by their middle names on this blog for privacy reasons, but I will reveal that while Lily’s first name is very feminine, her nickname is unisex bordering on masculine. The nickname that she identifies as her first name is uncommon enough that in the nearly four years she’s been alive this was the first time we ran into another kid with her name.
Let’s say her nickname is Ollie (it’s not). When Lily heard the other mom calling for “Ollie”, she ran right over and a variety of hijinks ensued.
Lily/Ollie continued to follow Boy Ollie and his mom around the park the entire time we were there. She played every round of hide-and-seek with them and listened whenever his mom said he needed to get a drink of water. She followed the directions given to Boy Ollie better than any directions that were ever meant for her in her entire life.
Of course, the same name confusion wasn’t always good.
It’s always fun to make someone else’s kid cry.
For days after we met Boy Ollie, our Lily/Ollie talked about the event. “We met a BOY me while we were at the park. He was an Ollie, but he was a boy! I played hide-and-seek with boy me.”
I love that she referred to another kid with her name as “boy me”.
Luckily she wasn’t too disturbed by the fact that her nickname could be a boy’s name. I, on the other hand, have been more tempted to call her by her more feminine formal first name ever since this transpired even though her nickname was technically inspired by a 6-foot tall male Indian friend of ours. (We just really liked his name.)