Mar 312011
 

I have an opportunity to cross an item off my Bucket List.  Blake, my favorite stylist, and one of the only people talented and qualified enough to attempt to style my hair, has offered to make me a blonde. Holy shit.  I’ve had high lights, but never sported anything lighter than a chestnut brown.

Changing hair color is probably nothing for some people; I have tons of friends who do it both freely and fabulously.  My fear, my hesitation is because I already hate my hair.  My naturally curly, angry friggin hair.  When I keep up on my cuts with Blake my hair tends to stay slightly tamed and subdued. When I get busy, the kids get sick, we have our usual plans, and life keeps happening then my hair tends to let loose and go natural.  I am approximately 5 weeks overdue for a cut.  Check this nonsense out. This is what happens when I don’t put product in on a humid day.

My Nut House Application Photo

 

So Saturday I will be getting at the very least a haircut, and maybe even a new color.  Let’s just hope I don’t end up looking like a Q-Tip.

It might not make my hair pretty, but it will make me feel better. Click the link below to cast an automatic vote for me:

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Green with envy

 Posted by at 2:51 pm  Uncategorized
Mar 302011
 

When you become someone’s mother your entire world changes.  You feel things you never thought possible and you do things you never dreamed that you would do before…but I’m getting ahead of myself.

Have I ever told you that green is one of my favorite colors?  Well, it’s one of them. My two favorites being red and green even though I have an borderline obsession with wearing black and white. Anyway, green is everywhere this time of year.

It’s in the grass….

 

It’s in the trees…

 

In the animals who slowly awake from their winter’s slumber…

 

So when Joey called me to come “look at the green,”  my mind was focused on the color of the season.  Did he draw a Spring Landscape?  Was he admiring the greening grass?  Perhaps our tree buds had burst open into leaves?

As I skipped, with a “spring” in my step, and rounded the corner, all hopes of a desirable Spring scene were shattered as I saw Joey, not peering out the window or coloring in his room, but standing bare-assed in the bathroom grinning at the toilet.  I sighed a terrible sigh and swiftly made my way towards the boy.

“Are you sick, Joey? Do you feel okay? Do you have diarrhea?” I quickly question.

“No, Mom. I’m totally fine. It’s just a regular poop, buuuuuut look, Mom! Look how green it is!  It looks like a group of green snakes sleeping in the toilet.” Joey giggled.

Almost afraid to look, I peered cautiously over the bowl and saw the greenest bunch of turds ever.  Think neon green…

Actual green snakes

You didn’t think I’d post poop pictures did you?  Come on! Give me a little credit!

Anyway, this is when I share one of those motherhood lessons I’ve learned that not too many people know.  When I saw Joey’s otherwise normal turds,(and here’s where you do things as a Mom you never dreamed of doing) and saw the bright green neon color I didn’t panic.  In fact, I told Joey to wipe, flush and wash his hands.  The I went down stairs and finished some emails.  Did I do that because I’m a bad Mom?  Because I don’t care about my child’s health?

The simple answer is I’ve seen it before…panicked once before….called the doctor once before….and knew we had the same situation as before.  You see, Joey had recently celebrated a friend’s birthday.  In honor of the celebration they ate cake.  Delicious chocolate and vanilla cake with blue icing (at least the Batman part of the cake).  So Joey joyfully celebrated, ate and digested the birthday cake with blue icing.  The blue icing, once it goes through the digestive system, actually comes out green. Really, really green.

So, Mamas, if your child ever poops a neon green poop that glows ominously at you from the toilet, and as your heart thumps anxiously and your mind races through different ailments to reach a diagnosis, try to think of any blue or purple food coloring/dye they may have consumed.  It just might save you a panic attack, and don’t worry, they most like are not radioactive.

You’re welcome.

(And because some people actually need me to write this: This post and my opinion about your child’s crap is not a substitute for real medical advice. I am not now, nor have I ever been, a licensed physician.  Sometimes poopy problems can be attributed to viruses, digestive conditions, allergies and more things I am not qualified to talk to you about. If you child has a poop which concerns you, please contact your pediatrician to discuss your shitty situation.)

But before you call your child’s pediatrician, take a moment to vote for me on Top Mommy Blogs.  Just click the link below to cast an automatic vote for me:

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The End

 Posted by at 10:41 am  Uncategorized
Mar 282011
 

There is almost a rhythm to the pounding in my head.  The constant thumping in sync with the beat of my heart might almost lull me to sleep if it wasn’t accompanied by pain.

My face hurts. Yeah, yeah and it’s killing you, right?  Seriously. My face hurts. My sinuses are under attack, and there is pain and pressure in my forehead, eyes and cheeks.

My nose is congested, and at the best of times I can breathe through one of my nostrils.  There is sneezing, blowing and now redness despite the lotion covered tissues.

The post nasal drip irritates my already sore throat and is causing a significant drop in appetite.  It is also causing a persistent, dry cough.

Sleep eludes me. Just as I begin dozing off a coughing fit comes or I gag from the all of the nasal congestion.

So what’s the diagnosis?  A drug resistant flu strain?  Pneumonia? Whooping Cough?  Tuberculosis?

No. Far worse. I’m not sure how this happened and I’m left wondering why this happened to me. Something is amiss in the universe, you see, I think I’ve caught a “man cold.”

By all accounts, this is just an ordinary cold. There was a slight fever on the first day, but four days later my temperature is normal. So why do I feel like this is the end? Why do I just want to curl up under a blanket and die? Why do I feel like I want to cry and moan and have someone take care of me? All signs point to a man cold. I just don’t know how this happened.

Unfortunately, since women are not known to contract “man colds,” I got up and showered. Still feeling terrible I dressed myself and my kids, fed them breakfast, made lunch, dropped Joey off at school, came home and did the dishes and a load of laundry. Maybe one day, I’ll be able to have a “man cold” but until then I’ll have to suffer through a “Mom cold” which comes with no sympathy, no one doing stuff for you, and no time off.

Shit.

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