The hair is becoming famous around the house for it's tendency to grow out v. down. I have to endure this "little" stage before it gets really long and more manageable. Why anyone around here should be surprised by my shaggy lion hair (that's what SqB calls it) I really don't know...they ALL have the traditional Scat hair.
Afros in the 70's,
explosive bangs in the 80's, and, well, difficulties in the nineties. Believe me, I go through a lot of hair spray around here! I guess it should minimally concern me that my 4yo frequently says "Mommy, I really like your lion hair!" Great.
Grown long enough it eventually becomes somewhat tame and can even look nice v. scary. The
last time it looked nicer as opposed to scary, this pic was taken. And that's the length I'm shooting for....minus the bangs and with the natural curliness. I guess you could say I'm a third of the way to my
goal length. Yay!
So far, the chittlins have escaped the crazy hair, though they (ok, we) keep it cut close and theirs does have a mind of its own. Both boys have no less than two cowlicks and hair as thick as brush bristles. Should they ever go through a long-haired phase, their poor "do's" are going to levitate until they garner enough mass to weigh them down.
Speakin' of the chittlins, they are doin' fine...in rare form this week as they get ready for Thanksgiving.
Squib and I have been building killer train tracks!! Now that he has acquired more railroad track than any self respecting island (Thomas the Tank Engine is on the Island of Sodor) could possibly support
we have developed a new game which is, of course, to attempt to build a railway that consumes all the pieces. Here's my latest try at left. Not bad...two suspension bridges, one rotating bridge for boats to pass under, a vehicle crossing, "night night" sheds for the engines, and plenty of towers. For those of you not familiar with "towers," they are what the engines knock over. It's Squib's little addition to the world of Thomas the Tank Engine.
After a little scrap with the coffee table and three staples later, Beanstalk's noggin is now pronounced healed and he's rarin' to go. Surely you remember that thing I said about my kids bouncing...well...
Tomorrow is the big day for grandma's double mastectomy and we are all a little bit tense about that to say the least. She seems completely relaxed, but then she's, well, herself. The strongest woman I know. If she's scared, I know she's confided it totally in God and my Grandfather and completely made peace with whatever happens tomorrow. Plus, she still sleeps like a rock. The rest of us will all be taking a couple Benedryl, I guess.
My grandfather won't be able to go wait at the hospital because of his low immunity from chemo, so he'll wait here at the house with our pastor until word of the surgery reaches the house.
I will spend the day with the infected one. Oh, yes, Squib has the piggy flu and is at his Dad's house under quarantine. I'm going down to watch him ad get some cuddle time tomorrow while his Dad is at work. I miss the little snot-filled stinker.