Sunday, April 30, 2006


Man mine does not primp, he does not care about his hair, he doesn't even care about his eyebrows which can be very unruly. So, when he was approached 6 months to tlet his short hair grow into a curly afro so that the act of shaving it could be auctioned off during a church function, RELAY FOR LIFE.

After he agreed to go bald for the cause I watched this man become an expert in the differences between mousse and gel, deep conditioning treatments, and one eyebrow wax.

He definately became a little concieted when these brown beautiful locks started growing from his traditional crew cut head. I started to like it about two weeks ago. You know grabbing onto it during coitus, stroking his hair when I fell asleep, Sharing a hairbrush and a blowdryer.

And now it is gone.

My daughter, Barbie got the glorious task of shaving his head in front of the entire church family.

I watched horrified as each lock hit the floor.

I watched horrified as Barbie gelled the remaing hair in the mohawk with liberty spikes.

But I kind of liked shaving the rest of it of tonight. Kind of a power trip. Razor play as it were.

And now I am married to lifsize model of Mr. Clean and I hope he can live up to the task.

Sunday, April 23, 2006

Prom a Nada

Thank God its over. I think prom is God's little way of preparing a mother for their daughters to be brides: comlete with expenses, differing points of views with daughter, spouse, boyfriend, and everyone else who dares share an opinion.

But I digress...

Barbie and I agreed on several key aspects of the evening and she was very forthcoming on other key details I needed to help make her evening memorable.

I think we agreed on the following details: yes, there would be a prom; yes, she would go if she were invited (she is only a sophomore); yes, there would probably be food; and yes, she would need a dress.

Then she got invited to the prom and my little princess turned into a little green monster and thats pretty much where the agreements ended and the debates began.

Barbie Doll, princess of the household, decided she would also need highlights, an updo, a makeover, tanning, a pedicure, matching underwear, a dress, a purse, eyebrows waxed, and a limousine.

All of which would neede to be me...well, actually by man-o-mine, but you get the picture.

Most of the debates went like this...

"Why do you need to go tanning? The sun is out and will tan you for free!"
"But Mom..."

or, "That dress is cut to much cleavage..."
"But mom..." (We went with pink, long and strapless.)

or, "Make-up? Can't we just by some gloss at the drugstore?" "But mom..."

and my favorite, "I don't know what your planning on prom night but why do you need a a brand new pair of matching undies?" and I got the EYEROLL!

Anyway, we made it through her first prom and I didn't kill her. And I only got a couple of eyerolls. She looked beautiful.


Thursday, April 20, 2006


$200 Prom Dress
$150 Hair
$50 Nails
$75 Undies
$40 Dinner
$ Boyfriend calling and stammering and coughing and hmmming and hahhing about whether my daughters dress regquired a pin-on corsage or a wrist corsage...


I'll be the first to admit I have a lot of issues. Time management, double commitments, three kids, one husband. I feel like Rocky Balboa sometimes, like everybody wants a piece of me.

Anyway, Barbie Doll has Prom on Saturday and is demanding a lot of time and energy...and money. Nails, hair, dress, etc... (did I mention make-up?) She is 17 and this is her first real dress up affair and she is very excited.

The boy, Crazy Chester, has been dragged shopping for dresses, and bras, and mascara. I think he is developing either a real appreciation for what girls go through or some gender issues. He asked me yesterday if his butt looked good in a particular pair of shorts.

However, middle daughter, the PI, is driving me absolutely freaking mad.

After much research I have discovered the scientific name for the problem, middlechildshallnotbeignoredandcanspeakandargueandyelltheloudestaboutnothingitus a.k.a. middle child hormonal rebellion.

It is manifested it many different creative ways. I have isolated the root of the problem to be the hair-trigger connection from the brain to her uvula (the hangy down thing in the back of one's throat that helps the voice resonate.) my ears and the fillings in my teeth. It is pretty amazing connection, one only a mother and daughter could share.

I have taken the liberty of posting a picture of my daughters uvula in hopes that some other blogger will recognize the source and symptoms and erase the ten year treatment plan that has been reccomended by child guidance experts (they say I don't have a shot for peace until the oldest one leaves for college.)

Please share hope and treatment and the cure for this most serious case of rebellious teenageitus.

Please help.