Jinkies

Alright, so I get bored every once in awhile and totally change my hair. The fact is, it is a miracle that I have kept it red for as long as I have (about three and a half years now). And when I change it, it is always drastic.

So, a couple of weeks ago, I decided to go back to the dark brown I had several times before, but the last time I had it was when I was pregnant with Zoe. I printed pictures I had of myself with the dark brown hair and showed them to my stylist. She said she was clear on what I wanted and when it was all said and done, it was black. It is always hard to tell with the lights in the salon, so I came home and examined it in my bathroom- still black. I looked a little like Gene Simmons.

Thanks to Facebook, I received tips for fading it quickly- and they worked, but not as fast as I would have liked. It still took almost a week to fade it to where I am not so self-conscious. It is still a tad dark for my taste, but I like it- it isn't black anymore.

This brings us to last night. The kids are in Texas and my husband and I decided to have a real date. We have a local restaurant I LOVE that has live entertainment on Friday nights out on the patio. I booked the reservations, put on a hottie sundress, some makeup and out we went.

The live entertainment was a comedian. To be fair, he busted on everyone in the audience and I know how comedians are, I've been to shows before. But, he pointed to me and said, " You- with the glasses. God bless those glasses, they are so hot! You look like Velma from Scooby Doo." There was actually more to the joke, but it was R-rated and I try to keep this blog PG, so I will leave it out. It was funny, I am not a bad sport, but I couldn't get past the Velma thing. My husband tried to tell me Velma was hot to make me feel better. And I was like- come on! She's the homely one with the bowl hair cut and baggy clothes. She's the one in orange.

So, if you are looking for me, I might be either playing with sharp objects or hanging out with my head in the oven.

Jinkies!

{taken the first day, when it was still really dark}

Deep in the Heart (Corner) of Texas

The kids are in Texas with family and DJ and I are back in New Jersey, kid-free and not entirely sure what to do with ourselves. We are currently camping at the Jersey shore in our pop-up camper. It sure is quiet, and peaceful without the kids to contend with.

Last night, we spoke to Noah and Zoe on the phone. So far, everything seems fine, I have not heard of anyone crying for home, but Zoe does make it a point to mention during every conversation, "I want to stay with you guys." I keep reminding her that we will be there in a few weeks, and she lets it go.

Noah, on the other hand, has slipped right into life in the Lone Star State. Or perhaps not so much.

It becomes more and more apparent to us as the years go by that Noah is a Jersey boy through and through. Yesterday, he told his MeMaw he wanted some "water ice". She looked blankly at him and after some confusion and clarification, she took him to a sno cone stand. It was here that Noah gave the man working there a lesson in water ice and how it was made. And then proceeded to inform him that he had no idea why the product this man was pedaling was called a "sno cone" because it did not resemble snow in the least. He asked the man had he ever seen real snow and assured him it was nothing like this shaved ice he was placing in a paper cone for Noah.

What is "water ice" you ask? First you must learn to pronounce it properly- /wooder ice/. Now that you have the proper pronunciation down, you can educate yourself here and here. It is a regional name (Philadelphia area which includes South Jersey) for Italian Ice. It is like a slush or a sno cone, but smoother and with more liquid. Whereas with a slush or sno cone, you tend to suck all the juice out, leaving ice, this doesn't happen with a water ice.

So, if you are in the great state of Texas and you run into a small, scrawny boy, about 4' tall looking lost and confused and demanding his "wooder ice", please tell him his mother says hello.

And that she's eating a Rita's water ice as you speak.

A Hair Raising Tale

Okay, if you have been reading this blog for more than ten minutes, you know that my daughter is a little headstrong. She also has her own unique way of doing things and she expects everyone else to get on board or else get left behind. (She's three)

This way of thinking about things extends even to her hair. I really can't remember when she started assigning her own names to her various acceptable hairstyles, but I know it has been going on since at least last fall. The fun began the first time I had to figure out what kind of hairstyle she wanted based on the name she was giving me. This isn't as easy as it sounds.

Many a morning was spent with tears, tantrums and fits while she tried to convey to me how she wanted me to fix her hair and I tried to understand what it was she wanted from me. I believe I have finally cracked the code (at least until she comes up with another one) and have compiled a list of her favorites. The original reason for this list is because we are meeting some family members halfway between our house and theirs this weekend (we live 1500 miles from our families) and for the first time, our kids will go home with our family for the summer without us. I am excited and nervous, but mostly, I fear for my family members and the days they will spend trying to figure out what it is that Zoe wants from them. I made a little flip book to send with her for reference and I wanted to share the highlights with you.

#1- Ariel Hair



This is the term she uses simply to mean that she wants to wear her hair down.


#2- Ariel Hair with Barrette

This just means she wants to add a barrette to pin her bangs out of her face.


#3- Belle Hair

The sides of her hair are pulled back into a half ponytail with the back hanging down.


#4- Cinderella Hair


She wants to wear a headband.


#5- Ballet Hair

This would be a ponytail.


#6- Dance Hair or sometimes Ballet Hair with Dance Hair

In addition to the ponytail, she wants her bangs french braided to the side, away from her face and into the ponytail.


#7- Picnic Hair

Two french braids down the side of her head.


#8- Rapunzel Hair

This can either be one regular braid down the back or one french braid down the back.
(I do not have a picture of this)


And there you have it, should you ever run across Zoe, angry in a dark alley wielding a hair elastic and a comb, you will know what to do to appease her.

Good luck!

And may the force be with you.