Somewhere Over the Rainbow...

One of my sons, Brandon, likes to wear his hair long. I really don't mind, as long as it stays clean and he takes care of it (which he does). He's a good kid/young man. He looks rough on the edges, but he seriously has a big heart.

OK, so I can deal with the long hair, but what do you do when your son now wants to color it, not brown, not blonde, but like... purple? I used to be really against this and I mean really against this. I think more so because I was afraid of what people might think of him (or us). Yes, that's right. When it came down to it, it had a lot more to do with my own pride than anything else.
Regardless of the reason, we had made the stand - said no - and it was non-negotiable... until about six months ago, when I (yes, I) colored my hair pink.
Pink!?! Me?!? Can you believe it?!? I lived through the 80's and never did that stuff.
Before you need to pull on your Depends trying to picture it, please note that it was not my whole head of hair. Even in a moment of temporary insanity, I don't want to look like a giant Easter egg from the Dollar Store. It was just a small section on the top of my head. Our whole team did it, but that's a whole different blog for another time. Let's just say I blame Sarah for it, or more to the point, I need to thank her for it.

I was really embarrassed that first Sunday, I remember telling literally everyone I passed in the hall why my hair had this odd color in it. I was so afraid of what people would think of me. Looking back now, it was a lot of fun. We took pictures together and laughed... a lot.
Even with the laughter I do want to note that this is not something I'm looking to repeat anytime soon. I will, however, continue to color my hair, because this is a habit that just won't die. The reality is that I've had more product on my hair than L'Oreal, Revlon, and Clairol can make in one year. But, when it comes down to it, the ROY G BIV spectrum just isn't my thing.

Unfortunately now, after all of this, I have a new issue... to my son - hair color is open game.
We told him that since I did it once, he could too. So he bought some purple and put it on a small portion on his hair. It actually looked OK.

The next time, he decides he wants to cover his whole head purple... and he tells Matthew first - big mistake!
Matthew's eyes got wide and suddenly he finds a "look" to give me.
Here is where my own life lesson pays off:
I, for a change, am the one that remains calm. I'm actually able to talk to Brandon without freaking out. Ergo, I could reason with him a bit.
Since I was able to stay calm and not see this as an attack on my parenting we were really able to talk about it. The really awesome part was (because I could stay so calm) he didn't see what I was saying as a defensive strike to rebel against, but rather seasoned advice on hair color. From there we were able to talk about options and finally settled on a few streaks here and there.

I have slowly learned to deal with my fear of what other people think.
I can't make everyone happy and I don't need to put that pressure on my kids.
The most important point (above all) is that Brandon loves Jesus, his family, and others. He's a hard worker, loves to serve others and (though he may not admit it) is a big hearted guy.

I can't say I'm thrilled in any way, shape, or form that he likes to color his hair, but I totally need to pick my battles and this one is really nothing compared to the things I see other families struggling with.


After all of this, there is one thing I'm left wondering...

Did Sampson's parents have these sort of issues?

I mean, everybody had long hair back then, but his obviously stood out a bit. God had told them never to cut his hair, but I wonder if they felt the need to explain that to everyone they met?

Doctor, Doctor...

hack, hack, cough, cough ---- bronchitis anyone?

Did you know that Bronchitis can last over two weeks? huh... neither did I.
So that means if you share it with someone in the family, that makes about a month of hacking till you turn blue and sleepless nights for all in the house...
Let's see... how about a broken wrist? Yes, let's take a dash of that too.
Would you like anything else with your order? Oh yes, how about a UTI to go.
Lovely, will that be all?
Yes.. No, wait... I almost forgot. Could you please remove my voice just enough so I can't talk on the phone? Hold the easy breathing, and go heavy on the inhaler.
No voice? Uh oh, sounds like the return of "the look" and an intense game of charades for the teens.


So how's October going for you?

Break It Out

Have you ever wondered why socks come in a bag with a "ziploc" type top to them?
Do people actually buy a whole bag just to take one out and put the rest away for later? I mean, if they do, that's fine... wierd, but fine. If that were your need though, do they really need a zipper top? Will they go bad? Nothing worse than when brand new socks get stale, eh?
If that's not what the zippers for then... Do people reuse the bags for chips after they've taken the socks out? I know the socks have never been used, but still - ew.
Can you imagine being at school and pulling out a bag of chips that have Hanes written on the outside? Talk about being bullied, you know that would be in the yearbook when you graduate in ten years. People don't forget stuff like that.

Operator

If you're lazy (like me) and hate to look up phone numbers, you'll love this.
Not only will it save you a chunk of change from Directory Service, it can help you figure out where you are and how to get where you're going. What is this new amazing service, you may ask...
Watch the video and see.

Goog 411

Sorry, I tried to embed the code and it wouldn't let me for some reason.
You'll have to follow the link this time. C'mon you can do it. It's not that hard, I promise.

FYI: Someone told me that the co-founders of Google are worth 18 BILLION dollars each! Can you even imagine that?
The wierd part... they're not a lot older than my kids.

Morning Has Broken

Alrighty all you mom's of toddlers out there, I know that deep down you can't wait until your child will sleep past 7:00 am. I remember those days.
Notice that I'm writing this at 9:30 in the morning, there is a reason for that. I'm about to give you a taste of the other side.

Yes, my young men do finally sleep past 7:00, 8:00, 9:00, 10:00, 11:00, 12:00... I think you get the point.
We've actually done a bit of role reversal. I seem to get up earlier and they... well, they do not.

I really miss the times when I could hear one of my little boys early in the morning playing in his bed and I would walk in to pick him up (nevermind that I would stumble into the other room in a half-asleep stooper while stubbing my toe on the door jam - this is my fantasy/daydream of yesteryear - imperfection does not exist). As I picked him up from his bed, I noticed that his diaper was dry, as always, because he is a perfect child and waited to use the potty even at five months old. Next, I would bring him into our bed to wake up daddy, all the while giggling and cuddling. (HA!)

Fast Forward to today:

8:00 - Sound the wake up call

8:15 - Sound the wake up call

8:30 - Sound the wake up call

8:32 - Sound the wake up call and add emphasis to the "Get up now, or else"

8:33 - Feel sorry for myself because nobody listens to me...

8:36 - Sound the wake up call and finally figure out what the "or else" will be...

8:47 - Go upstairs and physically push them out of bed :) Ahhhhh... Success


OK, if I'm being totally honest, I really liked the quiet of the house this morning. Maybe I wasn't as earnest in my pursuit of waking my children as I might suggest. Calling from the downstairs to three snoring teens with the doors closed and fans on doesn't exactly promote the best way to successfully wake up my kids.

All kidding aside, the term "The grass is always greener" is so true.

Usually it's used when comparing ourselves to others, but I also find myself using it and longing for days gone by. In some ways it's more like a double edged sword when comparing it to ourselves. I long for those days past AND I regret not enjoying them more. So many coulda, shoulda, wouldas...

I'm sure that when my husband began reading this post he wondered whose house I was waking up at.

The conundrum I find myself facing today is how do I enjoy the moment, right now, before it's to late.
One day, I will have the whole house to myself in the morning. Of course, Matthew will be here, but he can get himself up and will of course go to work. At that point, it's just me.
Wow... I actually stopped when I wrote that. It truly hit me.

That's the design of course. This is what I've been training my children for all these years. To become independent successful adults and (I might add) that this is what I want for them more than anything, only adding above that a relationship with the Lord.

I guess it's just so much clearer now that it's closer to reality. Empty nest, boy now there's a stage I never thought would come.

So tomorrow morning, when your little one wakes up before dawn and you stumble out of bed to check on them, enjoy the smile on their face when they see you and the embrace they give you when you pick them up. If they're crying and have full diapers or worse, clean them up and thank God that you're able to do so. Then give them the hug and tickles that they and you so desperately need.

As for me, I'll actually ascend the stairs tomorrow morning to wake the guys and whether they like it or not, they will wake up with the kissy monster they used to know and love.