marmite breath slept here

I saw the start of a daffodil poking through in the front flower beds on Friday.  This led me to believe that Spring was on the way, and it cheered me up so much that I roused myself enough to take down the balloons and streamers from Tom's birthday (which was a month ago).  The winter funk seems to be getting better.  Or was, I say, because then this weekend it snowed again.  It looked so beautiful the first night, all fresh and un-walked on.  And then the next morning after the snow ploughs had been up and down the road, there was slush and mud and grossness.  And then funk.   I took this picture of a barn near us.  Aaron said it looks like the kind of place that people go to die.  I had to laugh, because it's true.

A silver lining on the yuckiness of the winter weather?  Sledding.  Here is a video of Tom and Aaron on the sled with Hadleigh following them (and then falling off her sled).  It's quite amusing.  I do love the snow when we can go sledding and be outside without the wind chill making us feel as if we're being sliced in half.  We got home and ate chili and felt warm and happy again.

I haven't baked anything in two weeks!  Well, potatoes, but they don't count, do they? Well, actually, I did bake two cakes for Hadleigh's Valentine party at school.  I baked this first one for the class to share

but then it snowed and they cancelled school and they didn't go back for a week so we had to eat that (uh, waste is bad).  Then I made this one,

 and Had said it went over very well.   There was none brought home, and my hips thanked God for that.  Mum bought me a lovely present when she came up.......mini loaf pans.  I have been dying to use them, but I am waiting until I feel like I can make the recipe without eating all the loaves.  It's hard--this addiction :)

  I've been throwing myself into the sewing and throwing myself into the planning of this trip that we seem to be taking.  Hadleigh keeps trying to pin me down and get me to tell her EXACTLY what we will be doing on EXACTLY every day of the time we're at home, and I keep telling her, "I DON'T KNOW! DON'T PRESSURE ME!"

Here are a couple of things that I have worked on.  I'm experimenting with different fabrics (rayon, I hate you) and trying to be patient and not throw my overlocker across the room when I make a mistake.  I need to not expect perfection from myself and I really am enjoying making things. 

Matching flannel jammie bottoms for my boys.  Tom thought this was really cool because he wants to be a mini-me of his Dad.

I found this great stretchy fabric for ONE DOLLAR A YARD and realized it was the same fabric that all my exercise gear is made from.  I made this great yoga/exercise/falling-off-the-treadmill pants for a FLIPPING DOLLAR!  I am thrifty AND cool.  Sorry, had to brag.  I love them.  Comfy and practical.  Yeah, I know I'm supposed to be breaking out of the comfy and practical box.  Bite me.  Also, note the kicky pose.  It is me being feisty!

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So today we had a hair trauma.  Tom has been being mistaken for a girl lately.  It hasn't seemed to bother him much--it's usually old people who say, "Ooh, you're going to be a busy little girl with all those books" or "Aren't you a cute little girl" and he looks at them levelly and says very matter-of-factly, "Actually, I'm a boy".  But yesterday while I was cutting Aaron's hair (under duress, people, completely under freaking duress, I cannot cut hair.  Just ask Antonella in Naples--she begged me never to pick up scissors again) Tom wanted me to cut his.

Uh, no, I didn't.  Don't even ask. 

But this morning as soon as he woke up, he was asking if I would cut it.  No.  Not going to happen, dude.  If you want it cut, I'll take you somewhere, I said. 

"I don't want it short, Mom, just a little off the ends so people will stop calling me a girl" and I said, "Fair enough, we'll go this afternoon."

So we went to one of the local barbers, and damn, I shouldn't have let this woman near my precious little boy.  I'm not trying to be mean, but um, her hair was not inspiring confidence in me.  But it was too late, he was in the chair.  I was all ready to document his first haircut in over a year.

"We want it to still be long, just not quite so long," we say, "Not short, please"

And she smiles and says, "Okie dokie, I'll just tidy it up around the face too, get it out of his eyes a little bit.  And then I turned around to talk to Had.  And when I turned back around, I saw this.

It really is amazing that I was able to take this picture because my hands flew up to my mouth in absolute horror. 

I swear, when I was taking this picture, I was saying out loud, "Oh my Goodness, it's so different!" and on the inside I was shouting, "GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!! What the Fuck have you done to my child? AAAARGH!!  FUUUUUUCK!!!  He looks like Emo Fucking Phillips!!  I hate you!!  Give me the scissors so I can show you what I think of your hair butchery, you charlatan! Oh my fuck.  I'm going to screaaaaaaaaaammmmmmmmmm"

Even Emo Phillips is all, "Fuck! What have you done, woman?"

And again, I was like, "Wow.  That is certainly different" and I nodded my head thoughtfully, as if I was just thinking to myself, "My, what a fine job she is doing" and Hadleigh and I exchange glances like, "Oh sheee-yit, it is totally ON when Dad sees this."

So then I had to pay her for it.  And she was all thrilled because his hair was not long in the front, and she destroyed the back, but the sides?  Oh, they were left long.  Because otherwise she would not have been able to say that she had done the WACKEST HAIRCUT EVER!!! 

I tried not to cry in the van.  And then I said, "Tom.  That lady needs to be in jail--let's go and let a different lady fix your hair for you, babe" and Hadleigh said, "Yeah, it looks sort of, well, I don't know how to say this Tom, but you look, well, girly.  And bad"

So we drove around on a begging spree.  "Can you fix this?"  "We have to wait an hour?  Hells no!  My boy is not going to walk ONE MORE INCH OF THIS GODFORSAKEN STATE WITH THIS HAIR!!

Finally, after dinner we found a place and the girl very kindly said, "Um.  It's sort of jacked up in the back.  And the sides" and I was all, "Oh, ya think?????  CAN YOU FIX IT PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS HOLY BECAUSE MY SON WILL BE LAUGHED AT BY THE LADIES AND THAT CANNOT HAPPEN!"

So she fixed it.  Sort of.  It's short.  We're grieving. Well, I am, anyway.  He's very calm about it. 

And luckily, he still has a gorgeous face.  His hair isn't terrible now, but we could NOT have lived with the first one.  I cried a bit (not in front of him, I didn't want to make him feel bad).  Also, during all this, I was trying frantically to call Aaron for moral support and also to tell him that I totally went against his wishes and am getting Tom's hair cut but now it's botched and OH MY GOD, HE'S GOING TO BE SO MAD AT ME, IT'S BAD ENOUGH THAT HE FOUND OUT I HAVE BEEN SNEAKING TO WAL MART TO BUY FABRIC WHEN IT IS A WELL KNOWN FACT THAT I AM SUPPOSED TO BE BOYCOTTING WAL MART"

So when I finally get in touch with him (immediately after the hellish haircut) and confess that I have taken Tom ostensibly for a trim but now will probably have to have short hair, he says, "Well, babe, the guys have all been laughing at my hair all day," and I was all, "WHAT??" and he said, "Yeah, they said it looked like I had my hair cut around a bowl" and that was it.  I burst into tears.

"Don't worry babe, don't cry, I told them I cut my own hair" says my lovely man.  "But I'm going to get it fixed tonight."

So now I have to live with the fact that my poor husband was ridiculed because of the haircut I gave him (I usually refuse because we just fight about how much I hate cutting it because I am rubbish at it so I hope you've learned your lesson, jackass, I mean, babe) and my boy had two haircuts in one day after not having one since his fourth birthday. 

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Just in case you think that my wintry, hormonal world is not happy, please, please, please go and watch this video.  I was on the treadmill at the gym, and when I saw this, I literally starting laughing REALLY LOUDLY.  I love it.   I love this man even when he is batshit crazy.  Carly, you'll like it.

Also, (and I really AM signing off after I say this) I got the shock of my life this weekend.  Dwight Schrute (yes, this is a link to another YouTube skit, but I had to include it because it makes me howl) is TOTALLY DAMN CUTE in real life. 

I had no idea he was so cute until I saw him host SNL this weekend.  This skit was pretty funny too.   God Bless YouTube.