Hairy situation for my Ego

My hair is very important to me. I notice it on others, too - if they have it or not. I wonder about it not just on the head, but everywhere. It's an interesting attribute of animals.....and the purpose which it serves. But what purpose does human hair serve? I suppose it's a vanity issue mostly. I mean, really, does it help keep us warm? What practicality exists with the hair we have? We all work so hard to wax, shave, sculpt, comb, pluck, laser, shape, groom our hair primarily to GET RID of it. We all have hair in those places that we wouldn't care to admit to anyone. Yep, it has to be vanity.

At the risk of sounding boastful, there are few physical qualities about me in which I have such self-assuredness. I love my hair. It's my favorite physical attribute. I can wear it wavy or straight; up or down, etc. And, in spite of the previously stated, my hair has become an extension of physical/emotional closeness with my husband and kids.

My Eldest, she likes to read. She likes to run her fingers through her hair as she's falling asleep. She likes to play with the ends of mine as we read good night stories. I've always noticed and have been moved by this attention she gives to our hair.

My husband likes it, too. He will occasionally play with it, or rub my scalp - each sending me another plane that we won't discuss here. Suffice it to say I feel closer to him when his fingers frolick in my hair.

My Little One uses it as reigns as if she's riding a horse as we walk about. She gets her fingers tangled in it and we are forever tied together by my long hair.

So, my hair - it's been long for a long time. I've grown bored of it. I have become complacent, almost neglectful of it. I don't tend to it as much as I used to--just wrapping it up in a clip or tying it one of those rubber bands that always seemed to break. So I needed a change.

Returning to work this week from 12 weeks of maternity leave, I decided I'd make a bold statement and hack off my hair. My goal was to be more trendy and spunky. After all, I am a woman in my mid 30s with two children trying to hold on to some semblance of youth. My husband says that I'm the typical 30-somthing mom. His theory is that most women don't want to mess with their hair during this time of life, so they cut it short and as they age, it only gets shorter through the years. (that will NOT be me! I am inspired by a friend who wants to only wear her hair in a braid in her twighlight years. Sounds good to me.)

The Cut occurred in phases - 2 visits in 4 days. The first cut was prior to highlighting (to hide the gray!). So much was cut off, that I could've seriously made a great rug to put in front of the fireplace. (But it wasn't long enough for Lochs of Love, which is what I had hoped.) She cuts. She highlights. She cuts again. The Cut is cute, but not what I wanted exactly. After THREE HOURS, the stylist says, "go home and see if you can work with it. Make sure you like it. Then come back and see me on Friday." Oohhh-kayyyy. I think I can handle it, but I'm not used to "styling".

Phase 1:Friday finally rolls around and I go back for more chopping. She stacks it more in the back andmakes it The Cut that I initially envisioned. So.....here I am in all my wonder feeling quite spunky and a tad bit more trendy. I have received many flatteries and am ever grateful for the niceties....and am amused at everyone's suprise & astnoishment that I actually cut my hair.

TAA DAAA: The FINAL style:

My Ego needed this -- thanks everyone!

Just 'cuz

This is My Little One. Isn't she cute? A friend took this photo. I decided to post a blog just 'cuz I wanted to share it.

She looks how I feel....ready for bed. G'nite.

Blubbering Idiot

Prior to a much-needed Starbuck's visit, a mom friend and I met in our children's classroom today. She mentioned that she blogged about her son graduating yesterday; an event that was shared with my eldest daughter. They graduated Pre-K and are prepared for Kindergarten -- and beyond.

Before I ever got to the school with all my media devices (35 mm, digital and video cameras) - only one of of which was utilized - I was crying. Not just crying like Demi Moore in "Ghost". I mean BLUBBERING. This is a major milestone for my baby girl, er, My Eldest. I almost mourn it more than I celebrate it. (I'm sure there's something VERY wrong about that....)

Admittedly, I had a *really* hard time with her turning five. I teared up for a solid month just thinking about it. I sobbed when she lost her first tooth. The Year of Five has been this whirlwind of "firsts" and "milestones" that are zooming by me. However, last Friday at the parent/teacher conference, I was reminded that it might not be going as fast I think it is. My Eldest's teacher gave us (her) a wonderful compliment. She says, "even though she's so advanced - most kids at her level are usually so precocious and obnoxious - your daughter is still a kid and she's so, so sweet." I cried - the Demi Moore "Ghost" cry.

What's kind of paradoxical is that My Eldest is SOOOO *not* five in most ways. Most ways, she's 17. She's bossy, antagonistic, sassy, begs me for a convertible, talks with the words "like" a lot (ew), even has a pimple under her right nostril currently. A teenager I tell you! Not helping me, or her, is that she's big for her age, smarter than your average bear, and looks like a grade-school kid. If I had a quarter for every time I heard "is she 7? 8?".... Alas, no, she's a pre-pre-pre-teenager who graduated from Montessori Pre-K (side proud momma note: advanced Kinder curriculum actually). I'm crying right now.....

Then there are the times she reminds me how very five she is: needing all kinds of things before going to bed at night, climbing into our bed during wild Texas thunderstorms, wanting a new My Little Pony from the displays along the checkout line at Target, wearing pig tails with ribbons, and how she still so loves shows like "Clifford the Big Red Dog" and "Sesame Street".

Oh! And when she falls asleep with her nose nuzzled into her tattered but reliable stuffed Elmo.

My mini-me looked so sweet yesterday. She looked so five. Yet I couldn't help but to momentarily think how much futher away from me she is growing. And how I am struggling for ways to keep us close. So I am remind myself to pray, and remember she is, thank God, only five and those teenage years are still in the distant future. (ahem - let me get my tissue....sniff, sniff. Allergies, y'know.....)

Deep breath. Big sigh. I get to through this all again when my Little One turns five and graduates. Yet another crying "opportunity". Is my mascara running?

Collision Course of Fantasies

Duran Duran (dare I admit this??) is my very favorite music group. I even kept up with them "in between" hit albums....and I know....some of you will argue that their lastest, ASTRONAUT, isn't a "hit". (I'm always up for an argument.) I have followed Simon especially, because he's just so damned sexy -- lyrically and physically. I'd give anything to share a dance with him on my 40th birthday. Random but necessary side note: Simon LeBon usually signs off his letters to fans with the phrase "Whoosh!".

I love Wonder Woman. I have since I was a kid. When I was 8, my mother painstakingly made a Wonder Woman birthday cake for me. You know, the kind with the pan shaped like her.... Well, it's been my favorite birthday cake EVER. I have a mini shrine to her in my cube at work. My friends & family purchase fun little collectibles of her for me. Even folks who know me well or have "that" kind of humor, call me Wonder Woman. It's good fun.

I treasure stories of extreme coincidence. Of couse, if you subscribe to the philosophy of my priest, there is no such thing as coincidence. I am buying into that philosophy more and more. My two very different fantasy worlds very nearly collided.

I also subscribe to a little email called "A Duran Duran Cartoon of the Week" http://www.freewebs.com/blazingtundra. The cartoonist recently portrayed each band member as a superhero. She named Simon "Wonder Whoosh"! WONDER WHOOSH!! OMG that is SO CLOSE to Wonder Woman! OMG! I couldn't believe it! Flashes of thoughts instantly - does this mean anything? If yes, what?

In the end it means either one of two things: (1) Simon and Wonder Woman are a superhero couple that no one really knew about; or (2) it's just a coincidence.

Thanks, Ramona, for sparking some THING that initiated my blog - and named it. God willing, I will keep up with it. :) And in the spirit of my "husband"...

Whoosh!