Mandajuice

Self-inflicted hair cut of DOOM

On Friday, I got out of the shower, combed my hair and then made the rash and ridiculous decision to walk half-naked through the living room to grab the kitchen shears off the counter.  I stormed back to Alex's bathroom, parted my mangy fro down the middle and started chopping.

BECAUSE I AM AN IDIOT.

I actually HAD a reason, although in hindsight, it's perhaps the sorriest reason that anyone ever came up with as a reason for anything:  I figured a "little trim" would tide me over until I could make it to the salon for a real haircut.  I was actually planning to follow all that great advice you gave me. 

A LITTLE TRIM!  HA!

This is what it looked like BEFORE it dried:

Yes, I am standing in front of the mirror in my bra in that photo.  At least I'm wearing one!

After it dried, it looked even more like an Egyptian tomb than ever before:

I tried messing around with it a little bit, but still, it's a big fat triangle.

I washed it again and put extra gel in it yesterday and tried to fix it with a headband, but I still BADLY need to go get some layers put in. 

I'm going to try and drop by a walk-in salon this afternoon.  Pray for me that it doesn't get any WORSE.

On raising a daughter with good self-esteem

Meghan wrote an inspiring post yesterday on the early objectification of girls (aka why the whore dolls will never be allowed in my home.  Ever.)  It started my brain on a tangent and I've been thinking about it ever since.

A couple months ago, Dave noticed himself constantly telling Genoa she is beautiful.  It's hard to resist saying it, because, well, we're constantly noticing it.

Every time Dave walks into the room and sees her, he says, "Hello beautiful baby girl!"  He started thinking it would be better to begin telling her she was smart instead, going out of his way to focus less on her beauty and more on her brains.

I completely disagreed.

In the quest for the holy grail of a girl's self esteem, feeling beautiful matters.  We could spend the next fifteen years focusing on how absolutely brilliant and brainy our daughter is, but that's not going to make a LICK of a difference when adolescence comes along and pretty is the only thing she and her peers are hormonally programmed to care about. 

I think the best way to make beauty a non-issue for our daughter is to let her know that we think she is beautiful ALL THE TIME, constantly, every day.  It's especially important that the praise come from Dave, too, since so much of a girl's self-esteem comes from her relationship with her father.  I want the concept of her gorgeousness to be so deeply ingrained in her psyche as to make it a given, an automatic assumption she has about herself.  I hope that by doing so, it won't matter what any one else thinks, or at least not as much.  I hope knowing that her parents love her and think she is the prettiest girl in the universe will free her mind up to worry about more important things, like getting in to UC Berkeley.

I have a lot of feelings about what's beautiful and I really believe feeling good about yourself, no matter what your physical characteristics are, is what matters.  Genoa is not going to grow up in a home where her mother wastes even one minute of the day worrying about whether or not she's meeting any of the unattainable standards of beauty set by the fashion industry.  Her mother will never try to convince herself or anyone else that happiness can be found on the size label in a pair of jeans or a number on the scale.  She will, however, grow up in a home where her mother goes out of her way to feel attractive about herself - a mother who wears makeup, does her hair and never leaves the house in sweat pants.   

Of course Genoa will also grow up in a home where brains are valued and hard work is rewarded.  The self-esteem that CAN be earned is going to BE earned, not given away just for looking pretty.  As often as we tell her she's beautiful, we'll be telling her she's smart.  We'll be challenging her intellect and constantly building her analytical skills.  (The same goes for her brother for that matter.)  She's going to grow up knowing that brains really DO matter more than beauty.  I just don't think it can hurt for her to know she's been blessed with a power-packed combination of both.

American Idol predictions

I wasn't planning to write about American Idol this season mostly because other people do it so much better than me.  But I love it!  I wish it wasn't, but AI is probably my favorite show.  Of course, I DVR it and watch 80% of the show on fast-forward, so that helps.  I'm not sure I would find it even remotely palatable in real-time.

That LaKisha!  Man is she good.  The season is over-wrought with R&B singers, though, which are admitedly not my favorite kind.  I just want them to SING THE DAMN SONG already.  Forget about all the frilly stuff!  [ASIDE:  I recently realized that I hate Christina Aguilera.  I mean, I've always disliked her for her skankiness, but thought she had a good voice.  But honestly?  I actually HATE the way she sings.  I never really thought about it until I recently heard her on the radio and then saw her on SNL.  And she's terrible.  Like nails on a chalkboard!  How come I didn't notice sooner?]

Monumentally bad performances were given by Antonella Barba, who is one of the worst singers I've ever heard and by Nicole Tranquillo, both of which I had to actually mute until I could fumble my way back to the fast-forward button.  They were  SO.  BAD.  Also absolutely nothing impressive from the guys.  They just made me miss the good old days of Elliott Yamin.  He was deaf in one ear and could still sing better than any of the current top 12 guys.

If I had to venture a guess, I'd say the four people getting voted off tonight will be:

• Leslie Hunt (whose sense of style is awesome -  I love the way she dresses.  Unfortunately, it doesn't help her sing any better.)
• Haley Scarnato (whose favorite singer is Christina Aguilera.  Need I say more?)
• Sundance Head (who I REALLY wanted to like.)
• Rudy Cardenas (who is completely unmemorable.)

Anyone else want to make it interesting?

I've created a monster

Genoa has become my fifth appendage.  Something about the combination of her being sick and my bringing her into our bed for two nights in a row  has suddenly resulted in her not being able to sleep anywhere but on my person.

I don't know how you attachment parenting people do it!  Personally, I like to be able to wipe my own ass without having to maneuver my arms around a sleeping baby in a sling.  And don't even get me started on how crappy the quality of my sleep is when Squirmy the Worm is taking up half of my third of the bed.  (Dave gets two thirds, I get one and now I have to SHARE it!)

Don't get me wrong.  I'm thrilled my baby's feeling better; I just have no idea what I'm going to do about this.  My goal is to have a baby who sleeps by herself in her own room in her own crib for the entire night.  And we couldn't be further from that goal.

But I do know what I'm going to do about my hair!  Well, pretty much.

First, dude, you guys, I'm not gonna be all self-deprecating and lame about it.  I like my hair. I can basically get out of the shower, leave it alone and not hate myself all day.  And my husband finds it sexy when I first get out of bed!  I'm not complaining about the hair itself, I just hate its current style, which is lame beyond measure.

So I need a new cut.  And probably some highlights, but I most likely won't fork over the cash for that on a regular basis so let's just start with a good cut. 

My big problem right now is that my hair is too heavy.  In order for it to not stick to my scalp, I have to blow-dry my roots, which creates more frizz (see exhibit A) than if I just get out of the shower, apply product and don't touch it again for the rest of the day.  So I need to get rid of some weight and then my roots can more naturally fluff themselves up.

My fear, though, is that the same thing will happen to me that happened last time I got long layers cut in - they just stacked up on top of each other, forming my head into a freakish pyramid chia pet.  My hair tends toward ringlets, so the more layers I have, the wider my hair gets at the ends.  I'm not sure how to fix that.  Any ideas?  Y'all have some excellent opinions on these weighty follicular matters, so I'm looking forward to your advice.

Crap on a cracker (and everywhere else)

The baby is sick AGAIN.  It started off with the world's stinkiest farts and quickly progressed to avalanches of smelly fluid coming out of both ends.  She's okay as long as I hold her, so that's what I'm doing.

Having children is such dignified work, no?

STEP OFF BITCH

As part of his bedtime routine every night, we sit down with Alex and practice learning numbers and letters on a Magnadoodle.  For whatever reason, Dave started calling it an Etch-a-Sketch and the name stuck.  Genoa ADORES the "Etch-a-Sketch" - she lives to eat the little magnetic pen. 

But God help you if you try to take it away from her:

We are SO in for it.

It's official

I. HATE. MY. HAIR.

I mean, I also hate the way I look like a complete dork when my picture is taken while I'm talking complaining, but STILL.   FOCUS, People.  The point is that my hair is MONUMENTALLY BAD.  Horrifically bad.  I had no idea I was walking around with 1988 stuck to my head.  NO IDEA.  Given the proper back lighting, I could pass for a member of Vixen. 

Please. send. help. 

What should I do? 

V-Day Redux

I spent all morning yesterday in the kitchen preparing a feast for my sweetheart.  I made Ree's Pioneer Woman Lasagna because it was a recipe I couldn't resist and also because I was able to buy all the ingredients at Target.  It turned out great.  I added too much salt, though, so if you make it (which I recommend), follow her beatific instructions EXACTLY.  It will indeed be spectacularly delicious.  I also made a two-layer chocolate cake, of which I just had a slice for breakfast.

Genoa had some Gerber strawberry puffs for breakfast yesterday and within an hour she broke out in a terrible rash all over her face and chest.  My cousin has a TERRIBLE allergy to strawberries and so do her children.  I gave Genoa strawberry applesauce last week and my understanding is that you can only have a reaction on your second exposure to an allergen, so that would explain why it was so bad yesterday.  Poor thing.

In the afternoon, we were invited for lunch at my friend Jamie's.  We had fun playing with our cameras (Jamie just got a Nikon D80 for her birthday!) and taking a bazillion photos of the cupcakes Alex decorated.  We don't get to hang out with our friends nearly enough.

To celebrate our undying love, I bought Dave a bottle of Glenlivet, his favorite scotch.  He bought me, um, something that requires batteries.  Needless to say, we were both very happy with our presents.  I was especially pleased with mine after the kids went to bed.  You gotta love a gift that keeps on giving, if you know what I mean and unfortunately, you probably do.

Happy Valentines Day

To celebrate, I'm being featured over at MommyBloggers.  How sweet!

Girl stands, Daddy rocks

Genoa stood up unassisted for, like, seven seconds on Sunday.   Dave was holding her hands and he let go and she just... stood there.  Finally she gently lowered herself to her knees and then sat on her butt.   Also?  She's kissing on command and saying Mama and/or Dada about half of the time you ask her to.  No idea if she knows what those words mean yet, but it still warms the cockles.  She's a little person already.

Dave and I busted ass to get his resumes out last Wednesday.  I kept meaning to write about how it felt like the Universe was against us and how NOTHING WOULD PRINT RIGHT, but we finally got it all sorted out just in time for Alex to start throwing up again.  Good timing!

Because my husband is such a rock star, he already heard back from one firm yesterday.  Cross your fingers that more calls come in today.  It would be nice to have eggs in several baskets.