It's almost here ... just hours from now ...
For months now Rebecca has been planning her birthday party ... a costume party complete with games, all her friends, cake, ice cream ... the works. We sent the above invitation to all her school and church friends ... a mere 26 kids, and so far I hope 10 will show ... I've had 6 RSVP and a few have told Rebecca at school that they are planning to attend.
Aunt Barb, Aunt Mary Ann and my two nieces are making the drive tomorrow to come for the party - thanks to their attendance, it will be a roaring success no matter what! I hope to have a picture post of the festivities up by Saturday night.
There are some experiences in raising kids that I've decided you simply can't avoid, and Easter Sunday, after nearly 7 years of diligently working against the norm, it happened.
Since the girls were small I have on occasion trimmed their hair. More so with Emily and her bangs than Becca, but they have all experienced me cutting their hair to one degree or another. When they were small, I would have Emily close her eyes so she could not see where the scissors came from or how Mommy cut her hair ... anal, neurotic, pathetic, naive, that I actually thought it would work?
The next strategy was to instill in them that there are only two people in the world allowed to cut their hair. Me and Ann. No one, absolutely no one else was to touch their hair with scissors.
Easter Sunday - do you see where this is going? - as we were sitting around my parents dinning room table, the children dressed in their PJs eating a bit of dessert before getting wisked away to bed, and I'm talking on the phone with GR, I stop mid sentence and gasp.
Me: Rebecca what happened to your hair? Did you cut your hair?
Becca: No, Sissy did. That part was just too long.
Me. speechless ... GR trying desperately to figure out what's going on, while trying to keep me calm and from orbiting the planet formily known as Pluto, and not let on that he's laughing uncontrollably 200+ miles away. Racing through my mind are all the rational questions a mother asks at a time like this and simply can't utter... where did you do this? ... when? ... what were you thinking? ... can I fix this? should I fix this? did you cut anyone else's hair? what were you thinking? I thought we were past this?
If memory serves, GR asked to talk to her before I did something rash ... they have a calm father daughter chat and Becca hands me the phone ...
GR: (in typical GR fashion) It's not that big a deal, go get the camera and take a picture, Ann can fix it when you get home ... Oh and ... you might want to go look at Emily's hair.
I still haven't gotten the girls hair "fixed." I decided to wait it out, and now a month later, it's probably time to call Ann, so she can work her magic with the girls summer haircuts.
ETA: I should explain, that what caught me speechless with this entire experience wasn't the hair, it was that at 5.5 and nearly 7, I honestly thought this was no longer an issue with my girls. So many of you have experienced the extreme ... Kelly's Princess, Topper's Big Red ... and I know this is extremely mild (one of the many reasons I haven't felt driven to have it "fixed" yet) .. yet another attempt to cheat parenthood foiled again!
