Tuesday, September 29, 2009

Quick! Before it's time to meet the bus!

I am hopped up on a small cup of regular coffee and a large Dt. Dr. Pepper, so if I ramble more than usual, I'm sorry.

I can't think of any clever way to start or flow with this post so I'm just gonna jump in.  My heart is ever so grateful to some people today for helping me get past my ugly (both inside and out).  I haven't had a haircut since possibly before Sunshine was born which puts it at about two years.  And yes, it was just as bad as you are imagining.  I was channeling my inner pioneer woman and wondering which calico dress to wear for the barn raising!  It began with wanting longer hair and ended with finding about 100 more "sensible" uses for haircut $ every month.  But Sunday night I caught a side glimpse of myself in the mirror and got a resolute "Yes, it is." from Mr. Wonderful when I said it was time for me to suck it up and go get a haircut.  That was all it took.  (So first thanks to my husband for the "affirmation.")

Monday was long because, as you ladies know, hair stylists--for the most part--don't work on Mondays.  I supposed it is a union thing.  So I call this AM to get an appointment with a stylist I used years ago, and they asked if I could be in at 10:30 today.  Seriously?!!  Yes!  Hallalujah! Then I realized I had to find someone to keep Little Prince and Sunshine while I went.  It's not that I can't go places with my kids, it's just that after two years of neglect I needed uninterrupted time with my stylist to undo the bad do that I had done to myself.  All I could picture was LP toppling the candle display and SS wriggling and inconsolable in my lap.  So ashamedly, I called my precious friend Angel (she is truly an angel), who was trying to get work done while her own kids were gone and asked for the monumental favor.  Because acts of unparalleled  service are her love language, she offered to keep the kids for however long it took for this stylist to work some sort of magic.  God bless Angel.  Seriously.  (Second thanks to Angel.)

So I went and got it cut and was chatted with and complimented in a way only stylists can do and have stepped back into not only this decade but this century for the time being.  But I have also realized that no matter how much I long to believe that I have cast off the things that entangle in this world and have fixed my eyes on what lies ahead, I haven't really.  For a while now I have felt the need to wear the disclaimer t-shirt that states "I know this is what not to wear."  I have watched enough episodes that I hear Clinton and whats-her-name with the on-again/off-again Bonnie Rait grey steak in her hair yelling in my brain..."You should wear a dark wash jean that fits at the fullest part of the leg and flows down straight." or "Seriously?  Another black faded cotton-knit shirt?"  I know these things.  And I want to post a sign in the front yard that says, "I know I should spend more time here."  I know that the yard desperately needs my attention and that I should fix about half a dozen things yesterday!  I feel the need to be a walking disclaimer.  I know my kids shouldn't be allowed to eat refined sugars and I should have a date night at least once a week.  I know all these things.  I want these things.  Desperately.  But for now, it's not going to happen.  I also know that I should finish this post better, but LP is no longer napping and is creating a stir in his room.  I know.  I've got to go. 

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