The Home Haircut or Poor L-Boy

A couple of days ago Tracy M. (DandelionMama) posted the sad and funny tale of her attempt at the home hair cut. I post my comment from her blog to record it for my posterity:



Just last week we had our own haircutting issue. My nine year old was a-nagging. (Cut my hair, Mom. Cut. My. Hair. Mom. Cutmyhairmom. OK already.) The clippers were in dad’s room. Dad was asleep. So the monkey got me the scissors. And to just make him stop, fully planning on fixing it in a few minutes when his dad got up, I began cutting concentric circles into his hair. We were both laughing. Soon dad was up and we got the clippers. As I flipped them on, there was a flash and a pop and it was over. No more clippers. I had a smokey black spot on my hand and my son looked like he had crop circles on his head. To fix it, I had to shave him nearly bald with his dad’s electric razor trimmy thing. He would not let me take his picture for my blog, but this aerial photo gives you a good idea of what it looked like. Poor, poor L-boy. I'm glad he still loves me.

Is Santa Real? An odd question in May

"So Mom is there a Santa Claus?" asked my vibrant six year old this morning. It's a pretty standard question around here-in December. (I've got no idea what brings it up in May.)

I give my standard response. "No, honey. He's a nice pretend person."

[I now pause to defend my Santa-killing position. Every Christmas I teach my children that Christmas is about the baby Jesus being born to be the Savior of mankind. If I teach them that Santa is real, at some point I'd have to admit the truth.

"Sorry Sweetheart, I was lying (in the nicest possible way). Santa is a wonderful pretend person. But not Jesus. He's not a wonderful pretend person. Well, he's wonderful, but not pretend. I wasn't lying about Jesus. He's real. Sure you've seen Santa and he was a fake and you haven't seen Jesus, but I testify to you that he's real. Really, really real."

I didn't want to go there. So back to my standard answer.]

"No, honey. He's a nice pretend person."

"MOM! Don't say that. He is too. He's real. And he gives you one less present every time you say that!" V. informed me.

"Hm...I have noticed the take getting smaller every year. Maybe there's something to that, V."

What?!?

OK, so my blog's title means an unnecessary collection of stuff from all over the place. And that is the plan. A little bit of this, a little bit of that. A pot. A pan. A bit of poetry. A bit of journal. A bit of personal history. Probably some religious musings. Maybe a gross story or two about my children. Most likely a bit of venting. It's a pretty mushy plan, but that's the way it goes around here.