Hair Chronicles

Remember how half of my hair fell out a year ago?

And remember how I started taking meds, got pregnant, took vitamins, and my hair started growing back in?
Like so?

And remember how I got SO SICK of the many little hairs (and the fight to do anything with them) that I vowed I would chop & donate my hair again?

And remember how I went to an appointment (that Slice made for me) 
and came out looking like this?

Well .... 
It's short and blonde again.  
I haven't started mourning for my long hair yet, but I know I will.
And I still need to figure out how to do the bangs with the glasses.



In this house, the traditional gift-giving holidays usually go something like this:
I make a gift for Slice, it doesn't turn out like I hoped it would.
He writes me a love note and/or tells me something is coming later.  Sometimes he tells me what that "something" is, but more often he doesn't.

You can guess how we spent this Valentine's Day.

I wanted to make this for Slice but Kiana came home from the store with this. (Ouch!)
I made these cookies with salted butter and forgot to decrease the salt I put in.  (Oops.)
Slice worked late, so when he came home we had Velveeta shells & cheese for dinner.  Then he fell asleep on the living room floor at 8:30 while I watched Psych downstairs.  Then he went back out to a well at midnight. (Romantic!)
MG got her first taste of candy
Little did I know that he'd made plans for the day he got off work.  He called a boutique in Vernal to ask the employees where they got their hair done.  Then he called the salon and made an appointment for me - manicure, cut & highlights.  Then he arranged for Kylie to watch my babes overnight so we could stay in a hotel.  AND he almost kept it a secret, but at the last minute decided it would be easier if I knew what was happening.

So we went away.  I never spent the night away from Liam until I was in the hospital with MG, and I would probably have objected except that I figured it was the best possible scenario: someone who already lives with us and loves the kids (and they love her!), and I knew could handle them for the 18 hours we were gone.

It was a really nice break - mostly just weight off my mind for a few hours - but I forgot one thing.  I can't sleep in hotels.


Because I now have a scanner, and I know you want to see old pictures of me

One day when I was three years old, I woke up with my eyes crossed.  And ... they didn't uncross.  My mom took me to an eye doctor in downtown Salt Lake.

"Was she under stress at birth?" Dr. Aldous asked - one of the very first questions.
"Yes." (I was by FAR her worst delivery. Posterior, epidural gone wrong, you know.)
I was far-sighted and had amblyopia, or lazy eye.  My sisters were teasing me at home.  I got glasses.
So began the routine: eye exams every six months (including dilation UGH), picking new glasses every year, and looking for them the rest of the time.  In fact, you might say my childhood was spent looking for lost glasses.  At least once I even prayed that I would find them, hoping to avoid my mother's wrath.
(It worked. God is good.)

My lazy eye was so bad that I had to wear a patch for a summer.  I got eyedrops every night - which I hated - and wore a flesh-colored sticky patch.  Kind of like a big BandAid.  Man, those hurt coming off.
But my parents promised me a new bike if I did what was asked, and I did, so I got one.

One thought that never crossed their minds, I'm sure, was that I could be too faithful to the doctor's orders.  For a 5-year-old, I was quite an avid reader, and the eye that was weak got much stronger.  Too strong.
A few years later, I had to wear a patch on the other eye for another summer.  I can still remember the whispers and stares, the pointing fingers I endured that time.
As far as I know there are no pictures of me with a patch.  Sad, isn't it?

Just before sixth grade I got another pair of new glasses - and promptly lost them.  Like, that night.  My mom was so furious she told me I'd have to go without.
So I did.

A year later I got my eyes checked again; I had 20/20 vision.  My eyes had somehow fixed themselves.  
I didn't wear glasses for twelve more years.
(I was hoping it would be a LOT longer than that.)
Liam saying "truck"

It's been much more of an adjustment than I anticipated, but I've had two headache-free days after weeks and weeks of headaches, so I guess things are looking up.

Looking up?  Got it?


Coming to you from a state of well-rested-ness

I think last night was the best night's sleep I've had in over two months.
Six hours of uninterrupted dreams, and MG is still sleeping while Liam makes messes - which puts me in the rare position of being both able AND willing to blog.

Newest epiphany:

I am living a bipolar life.
Slice working, Slice not working.
Too depressed to blog, too busy to blog.
Babies screaming, babies sleeping and/or being irresistibly darling.
Feeling overwhelmed, feeling lazy.
(Actually, the last two often happen simultaneously.  When I feel like it's too much, I put on Netflix.  Liam has discovered Sesame Street; I have recently discovered Downton Abbey and Psych.)
Exhaustion, energy.
Sickened, pleased.
Headaches, sleep.

What this means, I guess, is that I only blog when I'm between a 3 and a 7 on the emotional scale.
(You've all seen that, right?)
And that doesn't happen very often.

Coming soon:  Back in Glasses

Now, I'm off to save the day!


Blessing Day

Slice gave MG a "name and a blessing" Sunday.
It was beautiful, just like my sweet girl.
She was lucky to have both grandpas, four uncles, and a great-uncle in the circle as well.

Thanks to all of you who sacrificed to be with us on her special day!

(P.S. Doesn't Slice look dashing in his new glasses?)