This was going to be a post about yo-yos. Yesterday I told you about Grace's yo-yos. Today I was going to tell you about Calla's yo-yos. The ones she found in the cook book when we were looking for cookies to make. The ones that were actually made out of peanut butter cookies that we couldn't make because grandpa can't have peanut butter and I don't want to kill him on accident (or on purpose for that matter). And I was going to tell you about how we substituted ginger snaps and white chocolate and made these great yo-yo cookies and she didn't even know the difference because she can't read and how fun it was and how it took all day, but that was okay because it was fun and they are good. And I was going to show you these pictures of the girls helping.
But, then as we were getting ready for bed Calla came into the living room and announced:
"My hair was bothering me, so I cut it."
"Where did you cut it?"
"Here and here and here and here and here."
Says the little girl with fine frizzy crazy hair that was just getting long enough and even enough to do ANYTHING with.
And did I mention she has a HUGE cowlick in front????
And that I've been NOT cutting her hair in the front on purpose so that the cowlick doesn't stand up? And that I endured about 2 months of daddy asking when I was going to cut her hair before he understood that I wasn't going to for that reason?
I think I'm going to throw up.
I told her later that I think if her hair bothers her she should come tell me and I will cut it.
"But I did a better job. It's pretty now."
Did I mention that Easter is coming? Did I mention that we are MOVING to a new community and I now have a three-year-old with a bad 70s hairdo?
Everyone keeps saying, "At least it's just hair. It'll grow back." But if she was a BOY I could just shave it all off and pretend nothing happened! But no. Now I just have a little GIRL with a terrible hair cut.
Crap. Somehow a bad haircut trumps a batch of good cookies.
After four kids, ten moves and nearly two decades, we are still blissfully in love (most of the time) and I found myself back in the state I was born and raised in. It has definitely been a journey. In fact, on our 18th anniversary we pulled the last of our stuff up over the pass and into Montana, leaving our surprise love, Idaho, behind. But Montana is a great place. The last best place according to some. And we fully intend to explore as much of it as we can! Join us on our continued adventure through life, love and other stuff that comes with it.