Popular Request Pt II

Ok, I need to finish up the things I wanted to get to last time I blogged, so that I can subsequently catch up on the other things that have happened in the meantime...

1. The Rick James Perm. This happened on Mother's Day weekend. I had been thinking about getting a perm. I've always loved the way my hair looks when it's curly. Who doesn't? And I was under the impression that perms were no longer the atrocious nightmares of the 80s, with the frizz and the poof and the awful. I had visions of big bouncy curls. Against the advice of several friends, I made the appointment and braved the roller.

Yeah, so it was about six seconds after she unrolled the first strand that I realized I had been duped by the 1980s. I know I'm not the only one, since those dreadful skinny pants are showing up everywhere, making people think that they are a good idea, but I like to think I am smart enough to outwit the decade of my birth... no. Not so much. The "big bouncy curls" were neither, but instead small and tight. And I had specifically asked the "hairstylist" if there was some way she could blend my ill-considered bangs experiment back into my hair so I wouldn't have limp ramen noodles hanging down over my forehead, and she assured me she could. Sadly, that bunch of hair right there in the middle of my face was not even formed like a real curl, but instead like a bent mess. To top it all off, the perm process had taken a lot of the color out of my hair, leaving it -- you know it -- orange. Not good. On another note, the "stylist" might have taken into consideration that my hair is really, really thick, and that even the widest tooth comb has a difficult time getting through small tight orange curls, and if you try too hard you will look like Little Orphan Annie. I struggled with this arrangement for about three weeks, and then finally decided that I could bear no more.

I went to Target in search of a hair straightener (I have so very little faith in hair stylists and salons at this point I cannot even tell you. I have just as many horror stories from professional places as I do from my DIY experiments). I picked a no-lye straightener meant for African-American hair, since they don't really make white people hair straightener. It was easy and worked the way it was supposed to, though I don't know if I needed to leave it on for the full recommended time. It didn't have "getting rid of a bad perm" instructions, aside from a warning not to use it on a "curly perm". At any rate, when I was done my hair was stick straight and completely fried. It felt like hay, and despite the lack of the scary curls, was so coarse I still couldn't get a comb through it. Seriously, horses would have nibbled on this if they had come near. Except that the odd smell of burnt hair lingered, and they may not have found that appetizing. (That smell, by the way, lasted for almost three weeks, until I dyed my hair again). So then my next adventure was finding ways to condition my hair. Long story short, the mayonnaise worked, as did the olive oil, but the best treatment was just using professional shampoos and conditioners for a few weeks. Aside from the fried ends, which will need to be cut off, it feels like actual hair again.

It's weird to have such straight hair. My hair natually is not curly, but not straight. I describe it as "bent". But it has a lot of body to it, for good or bad, and I've learned to deal with that over the years. While I like the way my hair is straight and doesn't dry frizzy or weird, it's hard to get used to my bangs just being limp flatness and my hair feeling like it's plastered to my head.

I did not take any pictures of myself during the perm era. However, I can show you through comparison some of the things I saw in the mirror...

Obviously, the Rick James effect. This was the most frequent, 
bringing with it a strong desire to watch 
Chapelle's Show and declare myself to be "Rick James, bitch".

Bonsai tree, seen while experimenting with pigtails.

Afghan hound, seen while 
trying to comb it out a little



 

The Susan Sarandon Witches of Eastwick 'do,  seen pretty much by the end of every single day.

2. Wyatt learning to walk. Wyatt learned to walk! He learned at 10 months, while the other three kids learned  in the week before their first birthday. He's such a little peanut, and looks like he's too small to be walking. He is a busy guy and is into EVERYTHING! Even with so many other kids around, it's easy to forget the exploratory nature of the new toddler. It feels like I'm constantly taking something out of his mouth, and picking up the stuff he's pulled off the shelves or out of the cupboards. He's learning quickly about Mommy's frowny face and the very loud "NO NO!" He doesn't like it, and although it makes me sad-yet-giggly when I see his little face get all crumply after yelling at him, I don't react except to let him know that I mean business. If I don't, I tend to find him sitting in the dishwasher. But he's learning to stop and redirect when I scold him, which always makes me marvel at how smart babies can be-- and how easy it is to take control of your children before they are evil monsters that make everyone else resent your presence.


3. Photography. I got a new lens for my camera, a 50mm f1.8, and it has been super fun to use. I'm still learning a lot about photography and how settings affect pictures in subtle ways-- but man, when I get a good picture, it's such an awesome feeling. I really love it. I've started using Picasa, because it organizes the pictures on your computer and then offers you the option to sync them online. I have my privacy settings turned up to "Nazi", so I don't have just a URL  for all the albums to give you, but here are a couple of links to some of the things I've been doing lately:

http://picasaweb.google.com/pogatch81/NiftyFifty?authkey=Gv1sRgCOHn8a3L2q2O3wE&feat=directlink

http://picasaweb.google.com/pogatch81/30003499?authkey=Gv1sRgCIv7weL7-7iyaA&feat=directlink

http://picasaweb.google.com/pogatch81/35003599?authkey=Gv1sRgCLrM8bjyl-m5Ew&feat=directlink

http://picasaweb.google.com/pogatch81/20002999?authkey=Gv1sRgCM_sl4ySz4HWAw&feat=directlink


4. Jacob's Kindergarten graduation. Jacob is done with Kindergarten, and I can't believe I'm going to have a first grader next year! Time definitely flies. He is reading very, very well, and enjoys reading everything he can get his hands on. Now is the time for me to seize that and really encourage him, so that he really develops the habits that will make him a lifelong reader.

His graduation was just a little ceremony, and I don't have the pictures up yet... maybe later today I'll get to that. The kids were crazy, but it was the last day of school and I do remember that excitement. However, there was a class party, and refreshments at said party, and not for the first time I was horrified at what parents consider acceptable food for six year olds. Cupcakes, fruit snacks, juice containing 3% actual juice, candy, cookies... I cringed at the amount of refined sugar and hydrogenated oils in that room. How about a nice fruit plate, or some cheese or something? Sadly, those things do not get picked up by parents because they cost more than the big box of cupcakes or the package of Chips Ahoy. But the way we eat in our house and my militant refusal to buy things like that is more than just concern for each individual thing my kids eat. There is a time and a place for imperfect food (preferably a time and place where I supervise what it is and how much they get). It's about habits, and it makes me sad that they allow junk like that brought in by parents for these little kids to eat. They talk to the kids about healthy food and junk food, what is good and bad-- but then allow all the things on the "bad list" to be brought in for class parties, totally undermining the things that they try to teach them! I saw kids grabbing cupcakes, licking off the frosting, and then pitching them in the garbage. I saw kids with handfuls of suckers and those nasty jugs of "fruit drink".

What I am really, really tempted to do is send a note to the kids' teachers next year indicating that they are not allowed to eat things like that. I mean, they ask parents to send in snacks for the kids, and have a list of things that are not allowed-- but truly, the things that are allowed are not that great either. Plus all that goes out the window 20 times a year when someone's mom sends in cupcakes for the kids' birthdays! I don't want to make my kids the weird ones in class who have to sit emptyhanded while the other children eat the yummy cupcakes. But the things that I have seen them serve my kids at these class parties is just disgusting-- there was one schoolwide party where I saw tablefuls of brownies, cookies, Little Debbies, cake... oh, the horror. Not a piece of fresh fruit in sight. I have a cousin whose kid is allergic to red food dye... maybe I should give the note to the kids teachers and then just make up a story like that to tell the kids themselves so they feel like there's a reason they can't have these nightmare foods... and then just provide the teacher with a snack I feel comfortable with for my own children. Extra work, yes, but for two years now I have been absolutely horrified at what my children are being fed at school.

Hm, this little segment turned out to not be about Jacob's graduation at all. I'm so tangenty today... Jacob also lost his first tooth on Friday... not that I was overly emotional, although it did happen on the same day as his kindergarten graduation and if that's not a sign from the universe that my first baby is growing up I don't know what is... but there was something about holding that little tooth in my hand that was distinctly sentimental. Maybe because it was one of the front bottom ones, and could have very well been the first tooth he ever grew. Or maybe just because it was his first little sign of growing up. I looked at my kids playing this weekend (the three older ones, anyway) and realized that I no longer have a house full of babies. Just one baby, one toddler, one preschooler, and one elementary aged child. I saw them as kids; as little individuals beginning to be able to care for themselves. And that little white tooth, so carefully cared for and itself a sign on excitement and sadness five and a half years ago when it first appeared... well, it will go in the treasure box and I will be proud of my son as he moves to bigger and better things-- both in school and in life. And his mouth.