Monday, September 15, 2008

Hey Monday!

I just love Mondays, don't you?

They're so full of fresh promise, so turgid with potential, so ripe with anticipation of the wonderful things that could possibly happen.

Mondays speak of an 'anything goes' attitude, don't they? The week stretches out before you like a red carpet toward extraordinary achievements, with Friday the shining long-term goal. Ah yes, Mondays are just about the very best day of the week.

Until it's time to get out of bed, at which point the grind begins anew and there's never enough coffee to lubricate creaky brain joints, never enough time to get truly well-ready for work or the daily chore list, never enough 'want-to' to make it through the end of the 'to-do' list. Best to stay in bed, really, but of course as adults we can't just stay in bed, can we? We have Things To Do! Expectations to meet!

Stupid, stupid adulthood.


Mom came down over the weekend for a short visit. Too short, really. Isn't THAT a nice thing to say? That you'd like your Mom to stay longer? Well, there. I said it, and it's true.

Shoot, she was only here for about a day and a half. Friday afternoon through Sunday morning. We spent time tofgether doing 'regular life' stuff mostly, except on Satruday afternoon she took the Things to her hotel, where they swam in the indoor pool while she read a book and gave me some free time to run errands and such. Grandmas are good like that.

She also was a witness to The Great Shearing of '08, in which each of the Things lost several inches of hair. It was either that or risk being 'chromed' by their Dad, who has issues with the length of their hair.

To be honest, it was really getting critical. I cut at least three inches of hair off the back of Thing 1's head, just as a start. That boy has some gorgeous hair, thick and wavy, it was a shame to chop it off. A shame, yes, but now? He looks fantastic, and older than he did on Friday. Even Thing 2 was complimenting him on his new look. Thing 1, of course, dislikes it intensely, but given the option of having preppy-short hair (with bangs! because bangs are in for boys!) or having NO hair, the Mom cut wins, hands down. He's smart, that kid, and kept the whining to a minimum. Hey, for a kid who laments haircuts because, as he says, 'you're cutting off my personality!' he has adjusted remarkably well.

Thing 2 didn't need as much cut off for length, but his hair required MUCH shaping about the temple area so that the cut he got didn't make his melon look huge and round, which it is, but that's not a good look no matter how you slice it. Much time was spent on the layering, the estimation of how his perfectly straight hair is going to move, how much to take off to accent his features and not at the same time detract from the overall adherence to 'look,' which means that some length needs to be preserved as is stated in The Middle School Boys' Book of Style. Of course, this is a kid that has nothing but disdain for anyone who chooses to tease him about such things as pants that are a little bit short, so why I care about what his hair looks like would probably be lost on him. He has great self-esteem; he'd prolly go to school with braids in his hair and a barrel around his waist and not care tuppence what anyone else thought. Still, no need to tempt the acid tongues of the 6th-grade wags, is there?

My thoughts exactly, which is why I spent an hour on the back porch shaping and layering and cuttting in the insane hotness of a mid-September North Carolina day, while sweat rolled off my back and into my butt crack, while snippets of their hair blanketed my damp arms and face in prickly bits, while they twisted and turned and fidgeted and moaned, because I'm their MOM, and aim to keep them looking good enough to escape outright mocking at school.

I've been a middle schooler, I know how bad it can be.


There's a new tree in the front yard of the Tiny House. It is a magnolia. MagNOHleeyah! Come here, boy! Say it like Foghorn Leghorn, won't you?

The MagNOlia is gorgeous, but has had some serious side effects. Side effects like "oh my goodness, that looks so nice there, but don't you think some flowers around it would enhance the landscaping? what about mulch? And did you know that the Home Despot is selling flower bulbs now? What about doing demo on the concrete walk and putting in a lovely two-pronged stone walk so that the iris don't get trod on? And how about relocating the iris to around the Bradford Pear, then making half the front yard one whole big planting bed? Wouldn't THAT be a great idea?"

One tree can have an enormous knock-on effect, is what I'm saying. Thus begins a whole new set of dreams and plans. For later. After the house is painted. And the front porch is tiled. And a color is picked out for the shutters and foundation paint.

And, and, and. There's that 'adult' thing again. Always a full set of 'ands' to enhance your life, isn't there?


Ah Monday. Best to go get something done with which to bash down the wall of responsibilities that are threatening to eat my lunch hour.

Y'all have a good one! I'm out.

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